


The Idea of Consequences

by ColdLuigi, The_Plauge_Dragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acromantula waifus, Acromantulas, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Harem, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dumbledore is a badass who takes no shit from assholes, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fred Weasley Lives, Good Albus Dumbledore, Good Harry Potter, Good Hermione Granger, Good Ron Weasley, Good Severus Snape, Harry is a Good Friend, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Monster Girls, Multi, Remus Lupin Lives, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Severus Snape Has a Heart, waifus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 44,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23879077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdLuigi/pseuds/ColdLuigi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plauge_Dragon/pseuds/The_Plauge_Dragon
Summary: Things change after the Polyjuice incident.  Things just spiral from there...What do you think would happen when some idiot introduced people who casually reshape reality to monster girls?Le discord:  https://discord.gg/JKbqQ7w
Relationships: Aragog/Mosag (Harry Potter), Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Ron Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 131
Kudos: 242





	1. Chapter 1

Harry and Ron were rushing back to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, slipping in the shoes of Crabbe and Goyle. “Hermione! Come on out! The potion’s worn off and we have loads to tell you-”

“Go away!” was the response. Harry and Ron looked at each other in confusion.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” Harry asked, worried for his friend.

“The potion has worn off, Hermione… did you forget clothes? You can use mine, if you want,” Ron said, worried for his friend.

Just then, Myrtle glided through the stall doors. She wasn’t cackling with glee, or moping. She looked pained. “It isn’t that… it’s worse…” she told them. Harry opened the door, concerned for his friend. He paused, his jaw dropping. Hermione’s breasts had exploded in size. They used to be B-cup. Now, they were double D. Her robes were straining under the new weight. Her hips had also widened. However, these weren’t the main changes. She was covered in brown fur. Her eyes were yellow and slitted like a cat. Two ears perked up from her head.

“I- It was cat hair!” she bawled, hugging Harry. “Bullstrode must have a c-caaat!” she wailed. Ron looked down, and noticed the tail. “T-the potion can’t be used for animals either!” she added, sobbing. Her hands were now furred paws. Harry was worried about claws.

Ron winced. “That’s really bad, Hermione… really, really bad. Come on, let’s see if Madam Pomfrey can do anything,” he told her, helping her up. As they left, Myrtle decided to ask a question.

“So, do you think she’ll be able to study for OWLS?”

Harry cocked his head, confused. “We’re second years, Myrtle,” he told her.

“B-but you’re 15!” she stammered.

“The age of admittance was moved to 14 eleven years ago,” Ron told the ghost, before leaving. Harry also noticed that Hermione’s ass had also increased in size.

*****

The trio stumbled into the Hospital Wing. Madam took one look at Hermione. “Bed. Now,” She instructed. She then turned to Harry. “You as well.”

“M-me?” Harry stammered.

“Yes, you! I’m going to see if I can force a few nutrient potions down your throat!” she growled, moving the curtains to hide the petrified students (and ghost). “Now then, I can tell you three have been brewing polyjuice potion, judging by Miss Granger. Care to explain why?”

Ron gulped. “W-we wanted to see if Draco Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin! He wasn’t but w-we g-got some information, though!” he stammered.

“Oh?”

The three whipped their heads around, and saw Albus Dumbledore there.

“Can you inform us? I do believe it will be most beneficial,” he said, stroking his beard. “And do not worry about expulsion. In fact, brewing Polyjuice is allowed at Hogwarts, under ‘extra credit potions’.

Hermione’s ears twitched at ‘extra credit’.

“W-well… we know Draco isn’t the Heir of Slytherin… also, his father hid his Dark items in a secret compartment in his drawing room floor! H-he also said his father told him a little about the first opening… a muggle born died fifty years ago! He… he…” Ron clenched his fists, furious at what Draco had said.

“He said he hoped Hermione died, Professor,” Harry spat.

Dumbledore frowned. “In a time of crisis, we should not be attacking others. Twenty points from Slytherin. I shall inform Severus of this development, so as to give Miss Granger her extra credit- unless, of course, you two helped?” Harry and Ron shook their heads. “Very well. I wish you well, Miss Granger. This type of error shouldn’t damage your ability to consume chocolate, so you have little to fear in that regard.” With that, Dumbledore walked out of the hospital wing.

*****

Dumbledore walked into Snape’s personal chambers. The potions master was busy writing in his notebook. Dumbledore cleared his throat. Snape immediately stood up. “Headmaster,” he said.

“Now, now, Severus, there is no need to be formal. We have a few things to discuss.” Dumbledore then peered at what Snape was writing. “Hoping to publish your own potions textbook?”

Snape nodded. “The ones here are written by an incompetant fool! Half the time, the potions have the wrong ingredients!” he raved.

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, it is a dreadful reference to the status quo- unless the students are taught from an early age, they cannot pass the OWLS…” 

Snape growled at that. “It’s by design, Albus. Just like the changing of ages. While I enjoyed the four years of extra break time, we both know why that was the case- so the pure-bloods could have extra time to learn magic so as to get a leg up on the muggleborns…”

“Speaking of muggleborns… Miss Granger has been brewing the polyjuice potion. It succeeded. Apparently Mr. Potter and Weasley were infiltrating the Slytherin dorms to see if Mr. Malfoy was the heir. He was not.”

Now, in another universe, Snape would have demanded the expulsion of all three. In this one, however, he grinned like a maniac. “That girl will go far in life, blood status be damned! She’s only a second year and she’s brewing potions that only masters dare to brew!” he exclaimed. Dumbledore flinched. “Albus?” Snape asked, worried for his planned apprentice.

“She… she had cat hair in her vial…she mistook it for Miss Bulstrode’s hair...” Dumbledore admitted.

Snape’s expression turned furious. “Albus… you better be joking…” Dumbledore shook his head. Snape slammed his fist into his nearby desk. “DAMN IT!” he swore, before looking at Dumbledore. “You better make sure that she isn’t expelled. If she is, I swear to you, Albus, that I will take her as an apprentice, career be damned.”

Dumbledore nodded. “She’s not going anywhere… I will make sure of it…” Snape nodded.

“Thank you, Albus. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk to Miss Granger,” Snape said, standing up, and leaving.

*****

Madam Pomfrey went over Hermione’s form. “So… you accidently used cat hair in polyjuice,” she said. Hermione nodded. “I’ll do my best, but I’m fairly certain some features will remain,” she admitted. “Also, you’ll have some feline instincts as well. I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do,” she added. 

“You’re not telling her the worst part,” Ron growled. “She deserves to know.”

“T-the worst part?! What’s worse than this!?”

“Not even being considered an intelligent being,” Ron spat. Hermione froze.

“What?” she squeaked.

“You thought Malfoy was bad before? It’s going to be an entirely different level… unless Dumbledore personally intervenes… you’ll be expelled-”

Hermione let out a scream of shock. “B-but he said we didn’t break any rules!”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT THE RULES, ALRIGHT!? IT’S ABOUT THE FUCKING PREDUJICE!” Ron roared, furious. Madam Pomfrey gave him a glare. He ignored it. “The bastards in power won’t even see you as _human_ , Hermione. They’ll see you as an _animal_. Best-case scenario is that Dumbledore intervenes. The second-best is that you’re expelled, and your parents have their memory erased so that they forget about magic and you- and you’ll live on some reserve,”

“T-that’s the second best!?” Hermione whimpered.

“The most likely scenario is… that you’re killed. Your family’s memory is erased. To them, you will never have existed. The worst case scenario involves the memory erasing… and you’re some pure-bloods sexpet,” he spat.

“T-they can’t do that-” she began.

“THEY CAN, AND THEY HAVE!” Ron screamed. “Charlie saw it happen in Romania! The girl is nothing but a breeding machine for some pure-blood family in Norway! Her family was wiped of their memory AFTER the Norwegian ministry laughed in their faces about her fate!”

“Memory erasure?” Harry asked.

“How do you think the Wizarding Society has hidden itself? Mind rape. That’s how,” Ron snarled.

Hermione started to break down in tears. However, there were footsteps. “You will not be expelled, Miss. Granger. I will make sure of it.” Salvation had come from the most unlikely of sources. Professor Snape had arrived.

“P-professor?” Hermione whispered.

“Albus informed me of your genius in potions. He assured me that he would fight on your behalf. And if you were to be expelled anyways…” Snape smirked. “I’d take you as my apprentice. I can’t believe I’m doing this… but 50 points to Sly- G-Gryffindor…” the Potions master choked out, “For successfully brewing a potion that most seventh-years wouldn’t dare to attempt,” he told her. “Mr. Weasley, I heard your outburst. Twenty-five Points to Gryffindor.” With that, the Potions master turned to Harry. “Mr. Potter… as much as it pains me to say this… I’m putting my trust in you and Weasley here to keep her happy. She will be attacked by those in my house who cannot see her genius… when it comes to keeping her safe, you have my full permission to do whatever. It. May. Take.” With that, he swept out of the room.

“Did… did that just happen?” ron asked after a moment.

“Yes, now out, Mr. Weasley!” Madam Pomfrey demanded, shooing him out.

***** 

The weeks continued. When school began again, people wondered if Hermione had been attacked. When Madam Pomfrey said that no, she hadn’t, Draco had sulked for a while. Harry and Ron made sure to collect her homework for her. Her eyes had returned to their normal color, her fur was almost gone, the whiskers were no longer existing, and her hands had returned to normal. She still had the ears and tail, though, which was bothering her. “Oh, I hope it’s gone soon!” she groaned, doing her homework.

“Honestly, this is actually better than I expected,” Ron admitted. “In all likelihood, you would’ve most likely kept the fur.”

Madam Pomfrey took that moment to appear again. “Mrs. Granger, I’ve done all that I could to help you, but whatever remains, will remain. I’m sorry,” she told the second year.

“Did… did Dumbledore…”

“Dumbledore managed to convince the Board of Governors to allow you to remain at Hogwarts, although I daresay I do not wish to know how. Now then, you’ll need to go back to your common room.” With that, the mediwitch helped Hermione out of the bed. Harry and Ron flanked her, and the three walked out of the room.

*****

The trio walked to the common room, Hermione’s head hidden. They didn’t know what exactly the others would do. After Ron’s explanation a few weeks ago, they were all nervous. “Alright… I can do this…” Hermione said to herself, walking up to the Fat Lady. “...What’s the password?” she asked.

“It’s still ‘Wattlebird’,” Ron said. The Fat Lady swung open, and the three walked into the common room. When they did so, everyone turned to them. “Alright Hermione, it’s now or never,” Ron told her. Hermione gulped, and removed her hood, showing the cat ears.

Everything stopped. Someone dropped a glass onto the ground. Hermione let out a whimper. Harry and Ron drew their wands, but pointed them at the ground. However, the signal was crystal clear: They’d fight anyone who would insult their friend.

“Uhhh… Hermione…” Fred began. Harry and Ron immediately turned towards him.

“Think carefully about what you’re about to say,” Ron growled, turning his wand around so a backfiring curse would hit Fred.

“Can I pet your ears?” he got out.

Hermione blinked once. “S-sure?” she stammered. Fred approached, and carefully brought his hand down on the ears, scratching it. Hermione began to purr for a second, before stopping, blushing in embarrassment. That broke the ice. The Gryffindors all started reassuring Hermione that this changed nothing, that she was still her, and things like that. It made her happy, and when she saw Harry and Ron smiling, she knew that everything would be all right.

*****

When the morning came, the Griffyndors were all waiting for Hermione. “We’re not going to let the Snakes bully you, Granger. Count on that,” Semus declared.

“T-thanks…” Hermione stammered, tail twitching. The entire house walked to the Great Hall, Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the front. When they arrived, there were some mutterings… until Draco grew a sick grin.

“Hey, everyone! Look! The Gryffindors are supporting a freak of nature!” he cackled. Several Sylitherins looked, and started laughing as well. That got the entire Slytherin table to start howling as well- except for one. Daphne Greengrass didn’t think much of it. From the looks of it, the rest of the house were throwing away their dignity. Well, the Heiress of House Greengrass wasn't going to do that!

“Maybe you’ll finally have some use as a cumdump, Granger!” Pansy Parkison screeched.

Crabbe and Goyle made groping gestures while grinning stupidly.

Hermione felt the tears well in her eyes. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this! She turned to run, but Harry and Ron were there. They held her in place, and hugged her. “Hermione… don’t worry. We’re here for you,” Ron whispered.

“We won’t let them hurt you, Hermione,” Harry added.

Up in the teacher’s area, Snape was grinding his teeth. Of all the days for him to be the one in charge! He wished Minerva, Filus, or even Albus himself were here. He had to listen to that drivel thrown at the smartest witch of her age… it was like when Lily was called ‘mudblood’ for the first time…

The Griffyndors sat down for breakfast. Harry and Ron were right next to Hermione. Whenever someone whispered while pointing at her, they’d glare in their direction. Most of the students were murmuring quietly. One, however, wasn’t.

“So, Potter, you’re still friends with that _animal_?” Draco spat. Harry tried to ignore him. “Did she offer to mate with you? After all, that’s all she’s good for now!” he cackled. Harry’s fists clenched. “After all, it makes sense that you’d be drawn to her, Potter! After all, there’s no difference between breeding with an animal and a filthy mudblood- either it, or your mother!” Harry began to stand up, reaching for his wand. He only saw red. Ron, however, was quicker.

Ron saw Harry going for his wand, and almost did the same thing, before he saw Snape. He had to find a different weapon. Noticing that Seamus, Dean, and a few others were also on the verge of attacking the smug pureblood, he tried to grab their attention before they did something stupid. Ron hoped he had, but he was out of time. His eyes landed on a hot sausage. He quickly picked it up, and threw it with all his might. Time seemed to slow down as Draco went from laughing, to shocked, and after the sausage and the hot sauce on it got in his eye, to screaming in pain.

Ron was pretty sure he heard one of his brothers yell, “I knew you had it in you, Ronnie-boy!” Then Seamus lobbed a grapefruit right into the side of Goyle’s head, and everything went mad.

Harry and Hermione watched in disbelief as the entirety of Gryffindor House moved to fling every available piece of food at Slytherin, and _especially_ at one Draco Malfoy. The blonde boy went down under a hail of tarts before his own house could organize a response. Soon, though, they retaliated with their own ammunition, and a massive food fight began.

Ron was pretty sure he saw Hufflepuff join in the assault on the Snakes, while Ravenclaw seemed divided, with most choosing to attack the unprotected Gryffindors, while a small contingent instead opted to help make Malfoy resemble a mutated creature made from breakfast pastries. After a few moments, Harry had to duck to avoid a poached egg. With a shrug, he joined the battle. Hermione just watched in stunned disbelief. They were doing this for _her?_

Meanwhile, a few students tried to stay out of it. Percy Weasley dodged and weaved through a delicious warzone with a skill born from years living in the same house as Fred and George Weasley, until he reached the teacher’s table. “Professor, please, do something!” he begged. 

Severus Snape calmly patted his mouth with a napkin. “Of course, Prefect,” he replied, “I will deliver the appropriate response.” The Potions Master regarded the row of eggs next to his plate. They would make for an excellent opening salvo. He stood, grabbed the first of the runny-yolked objects, and slung it at his target. It crashed into the barely-conscious form of Draco Malfoy with a crack, coating him with a layer of egg on top of everything else already sticking to him.

_Nobody_ called Lily Potter a Mudblood in the presence of Severus Snape. _“Well, isn’t that ironic?”_ he mused as he reared back to throw a second egg.

Daphne, meanwhile, was trying to figure out what to do. She didn’t really want to fight Gryffindor House, especially when Draco had so openly and _stupidly_ provoked Potter, but if she wasn’t seen doing _something,_ the vicious internal politics of Slytherin could use it against her. After she nearly got brained by a waffle that some genius had hurled like a Frisbee, Daphne decided that Hufflepuff presented a more opportune target.

*****

The food fight died down after about two hours. In the end, the Slytherins were the most heavily damaged, having been double-teamed. Of all of them, Draco was covered in the most food. Finally, after a minute of stunned silence, the students turned to Professor Snape. “Yes, Miss Granger does look like she came from a Hentai, but I will not tolerate any bullying against her. Are. We. CLEAR!?” he shouted, amplifying his voice for the last part. There was quite a bit of nervous nodding, though the Slytherins looked slightly betrayed. After all, Snape had been the one to summon a cake storm down upon them. The Gryffindors were in a state of shock, as were most of the muggleborns. The purebloods were mostly wondering what hentai even was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discoveries are made all around.

There was still a bit of muttering about Hermione, but it was in the corridors. The professors would come down hard on the bullying if they saw it- none more so than Professor Snape. On the first double Gryffindor-Slytherin potions class, Snape gave everyone a withering glare. “I will not tolerate ANY name-calling due to anything other than competency in potions, for that is the only thing that matters in this classroom,” he growled, staring at the Slytherins, who gulped. When classes were over, Harry, deciding to test his luck, walked up to Snape.

“Yes, Potter?” he sneered.

“Um… Professor… I’m worried about Hermione… What if the monster attacks her? I mean… apparently her status in the eyes of the Slytherins is even lower now…”

Snape’s sneer vanished. “She is also the brightest witch of her age…” he said, trailing off. ‘Like Lilly…’ he thought to himself. “It would be most likely that the Heir would feel jealousy at her intellect…” Snape grabbed a piece of parchment, and scribbled something down. “Here. You, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger have access to the Restricted Section- Asile Z, Bookshelf 9. You will find whatever you are seeking there. Do not, under any circumstances, try those spells out- this goes double for Weasley. He needs to get his wand fixed,” Snape explained, handing Harry the note.

“Thank you, sir!” Harry replied, relief written all over his face, before leaving. When he did, Snape sighed.

“Thank you, Albus, for that lecture…” he said to himself.

*****

(Flashback)

_ “I gave you one year to see if you could put aside your obsession with a dead woman and help a boy like you who needed it. You couldn’t. So stop talking to me about how much he acts like his father. For all his faults, and he had many, James Potter fought evil and died a hero, just like Lily. Now it’s up to us to prove ourselves worthy of their memory.” Dumbldore said to Snape. _

_ “Lily died to protect him! What makes him worthy of that?” Snape shot back. _

_ “That isn’t your judgement to make, Severus. That was Lily’s, and we both know she would have done it again a thousand times over.”  _

_ “But...But...”  _

_ “Severus. You have to move on.”  _

_ Snape narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster. “What do you know of moving on?”  _

_ That did it. A dark air filled the entire office. Snape saw nothing but unbridled FURY in Albus’ eyes. In that moment, he finally understood why the Dark Lord was so afraid of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and why his orders regarding him were to retreat.  _

_ “Severus,  _ **_sit down._ ** _ You want to know everything I’ve had to  _ **_move on_ ** _ from?? Fine, I’ll tell you what I know regarding the need to move on.” _

_ On that day, Severus Snape learned the darkest secrets of Albus Dumbledore, and wasn’t able to look at himself in the mirror for a week. _

(Flashback ends)

*****

  
  


After classes were over, the three friends headed for the library. “Lead on, Hermione,” Ron told her. She blushed, and they walked over to Madam Pince.

“M-madam Pince?” Hermione squeaked, ears fearfully back. The strict librarian looked down at the three teenagers, and scowled.

“Yes? What do you want?”

“W-we have a one-day pass to Aisile Z, Bookshelf 9…” Hermione stammered, tail twitching.

The librarian gave them a very stern look. “I need a note- and if you forged it, you are to be expelled.” Harry shakily gave her the note.

“What’s even in there?” Ron whispered.

“It’s the most restricted part of the library… only the strictest teacher can give access there… according to ‘Hogwarts, A History’, the unofficial nickname is ‘The Restricted Section of the Restricted Section’,” she explained.

“Harry… how in the world did you get Snape to give you permission to go there?!” Ron exclaimed (in a whisper).

Madam Pince came back, and handed them their slip. “You have until dinnertime. You are not to take the books from their positions. You are to put them back when you are done.”

The three nodded, and set off for the area. They arrived, and got to work. Hermione began pouring over dark spells, hoping to see if she could find anything- maybe the heir had used one. Ron looked over a book describing dark creatures. Unfortunately, the page with the basilisk was stuck to another, so he didn’t see it. Harry, however, felt something… there, in the very back, was a pitch-black book. ‘That one’ his mind seemed to say. He carefully blew the dust off of the cover.

‘The Darkest Powers’ was the title of the book. He flipped to a random page, and found a long chant. He pulled out a piece of parchment and began to write it down. ‘Audi obedientes Per potentiam MAGIA: Adiuro te ad voluntatem meam! Forma accipiatur gratissimum oculis Mihine servietis et quod reliquum est annorum, cum servo meo, et dilectus meus in sempiternum’ he thought. “Hermione? Can you translate this?” he asked.

Hermione walked over, and looked at it. “Harry… This is a latin chant. These spells are incredibly powerful, but incredibly dark. They have terrible results… does the book state any effects?”

Harry looked over the chant again. “...No, it doesn't…” he admitted. “It says that the author of the chant was only able to use it once, as well, and was protected by a barrier while he cast it… what does it do?”

“I don’t speak latin, Harry. Keep the parchment close to you. I’m going to see if there are any potions.”

Ron, meanwhile, was looking at charm spells. ‘Huh… these are… interesting…’ he thought to himself. ‘Pantiloopogus poopigus? Sounds like a good prank… degree of effect depends on intent…’ he wrote the incantation and the movements down. He also found another. ‘Arcanum sonitus ticking?’

Hermione, meanwhile, was looking over other potions. ‘Bone of the father, unwillingly given…’ she began, writing it down. ‘Unquenching thirst potion? Sounds useful… the side effect is a bit nasty, though… probably intentional…’

*****

When it was dinner time, the three put their books back into place, and headed off to eat. Hermione filled her plate with fish. “It just tastes really good to me, now,” she admitted. Harry and Ron shrugged. Must’ve been the cat instincts. 

*****

The weeks came and went, one by one. There hadn’t been any attacks for a while, so some people were beginning to let down their guard. However, the mood was still sour. After a while, Harry found himself walking towards Myrtle’s bathroom with Ron, only to find the ghost trying to glomp him. She merely passed through him, which was an unpleasant feeling.

“Myrtle? What’s wrong?” Harry asked the sobbing ghost.

“I- it’s horrible! S-someone threw a book at me!” she wailed. Ron looked sympathetic, and looked behind the ghost. Sure enough, there was a black book sitting on the floor. Harry followed Ron’s eyes, and saw it. Curious, he went to pick it up. Ron immediately ran over.

“Harry… be careful! There are cursed books! My dad had to deal with one that burned your eyes out!” he exclaimed. Harry, for some reason, felt drawn to it. He gently picked it up from the wet floor. The date told him that the book was half a century old. The name on the book was ‘T. M. Riddle’. Harry showed the title to Ron.

“Huh. I know that name. He got an award for ‘Services for the School’...” Ron stated.

“He did?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, when I was coughing up slugs, Filch made me reclean his plaque like fifty times…” Ron groaned.

Myrtle looked at the title as well. “He was a Slytherin when I was a student,” she told the two. “He was rather charismatic, if I recall,” she added as an afterthought.

Harry peeled the wet pages apart. There was absolutely nothing in it. “That’s odd… he never wrote in it…” Harry mused.

“What’s confusing to me is why someone would want to flush a blank, fifty-year-old diary away, instead of, I don’t know, throwing it in a bin?”

*****

That night, Harry and Ron showed Hermione the diary. “Obviously he was a muggleborn or half-blood, since this is a muggle diary… but why would it be blank…?” she asked, trailing off. Then, her ears perked up, and she snapped her fingers. “He got an award for services for the school at the same time there were previous attacks! Maybe he caught the heir!” she exclaimed. However, when she tried what she had, nothing came up. “Huh… surely it can’t be empty, right?”

“It’s possible he got it for Christmas and never bothered to fill it in,” Ron mused.

*****

Throughout January and the beginning of February, the mood of the school continued to improve. To Harry and Ron’s great amusement, Hermione began to lose her fangirl tendencies around Lockhart. Apparently, his perfume made her nose ache. “It smells like he’s been rolling around in rotten seaweed!” she had complained. Speaking of Lockhart, he seemed to think that he had been the one to drive away the monster, whatever it may have been. The three had ignored his boasting, Hermione wondering why she had ever believed him. However, they were confused when they heard him mentioning a ‘morale booster’.

“Oh please, please don’t have him create a day of celebrations dedicated to himself! Anything but that!” Ron pleaded.

*****

“I regret everything,” Ron groaned when the Gryffindors walked into the Great Hall for breakfast the next day. Their eyes had been assaulted by burning pink. Pink flowers, pink streamers, even pink glitter!

Hermione mewled in agony. The flowers smelled awful! Another muggleborn looked at the glitter in sheer loathing. “Craft Herpes!” he declared, disgusted.

Harry looked up to the Teacher’s table, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Lockhart was wearing the flashiest pink robes Harry had ever seen, and it burned! The rest of the teachers were looking stone-faced. McGonagall was downing a goblet of what Harry was pretty sure was Whiskey, while Snape locked eyes with him, and mouthed ‘kill me now’.

“I organized this lovely little Valentine's surprise for all of you, and I thank the 46 students who have already sent me Valentines! Now then, this happy occasion doesn't end here!” he declared, clapping his hands. On cue, a dozen dwarfs marched in, wearing white wings and carrying golden harps. They didn’t look happy to be there. “I brought a squad of cupids to aid me! And the fun doesn't stop there! They’ll be delivering valentines for everyone! Also, ask your teachers to aid you on this romantic day! I have been informed that love potions are banned, but I believe our potions master would be more than willing to create some lovely smelling brews!” Harry was wondering why Snape was mouthing ‘Avada Kedavra’. Was that a spell that cured headaches?

“If you’re lacking in bed, ask Professor Flitwick for assistance! I am told he knows a charm or two!” The charms professor slammed his head into the table.

Harry turned to Hermione. “I assume you weren’t one of the 46,” he mused.

“Had my sense of smell not skyrocketed, I would’ve been,” she admitted.

*****

The dwarves followed their duties barging into classes to deliver valentines, and, from the laughter Harry overheard, booty calls. The second years only being 15, they didn’t receive those. That would wait until next year, most likely. Either way, Harry was glad he hadn’t received one so far. Of course, by thinking that, he jinxed it. As he was walking upstairs to charms, one of the dwarves called out to him.

“Oi! You! You’re Harry Potter, right? I got a signing valentine for you!” the dwarf called out to him. Harry immediately turned to run away as fast as he could. He saw that a group of first years, including Ginny Weasley, were in hearing range. He definitely didn’t want to deal with that. The dwarf, however, was able to weave through the crowd. “Come on, kid! I wanna go home!” the dwarf complained, latching onto him. “This is my last delivery today!” the dwarf complained, grabbing his bag.

“Let GO!” Harry shouted.

“I’ll let go if you stay here, kid!” the dwarf shot back. Then, there was a loud ripping sound. Harry’s bag split in two, spilling his things all over the ground. Had his ink been in a glass jar, it would’ve smashed, and ruined everything. However, since it was plastic (At Hermione’s suggestion) the force only caused the cork to dislodge itself. The ink only got on the diary and the surrounding area. At the commotion, the dwarf tripped Harry.

“Listen Kid, this is as embarrassing for you as it is for me. Now, here it is,” the dwarf grumbled. He opened the valentine.

_ “His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, _

_ His hair is as dark as a blackboard! _

_ I wish he was mind, he’s really devine, _

_ The hero who conquered the Dark Lord!” _

The dwarf winced when he finished the song. “See ya, Kid. And yeah, I’m sorry about your bag,” he added, running away. Harry, meanwhile, would’ve given all the gold in Gringotts to vanish on the spot. The observers were beginning to cry with laughter. Harry tried to join in, but he just couldn’t. He especially couldn’t when he saw Draco howling with glee.

“Oh this is adorable! The youngest blood traitor sent Potter a valentine!” the heir of the Malfoy family roared. He then picked up Tom Riddle’s diary.

“Oh ho, what’s this? Is this where you write your naughtly dreams about Granger?” he mocked, before turning to Ron, who was shaking in rage. “Or is it where you think about defiling Ron’s younger sibling- not that being a blood traitor didn’t defile her already!”

Harry expected Ron to punch Malfoy. However, he did not expect him to open his mouth and not pull up his wand.

“You’re one to talk of younger siblings, Malfoy!” he spat. “After all, how many do you have? Oh right, ZERO! That’s what happens when your family tree looks more like a tumbleweed.” Draco dropped the diary into the ink puddle in shock. Harry quickly went to scoop it up, and to his shock, the diary was completely dry! He stuffed the diary into his bag, using ‘repairo’ to fix it. Charms awaited!

*****

Harry was the first person to his dorm room that night. Fred and George hadn’t been taunting that song, since they were too busy proclaiming Ron as ‘The Roastmaster’. Harry was happy they were distracted, personally. He pulled out a quill, and wrote ‘Hello’ into the diary. The words disappeared, and then, in completely different writing, a new set appeared.

‘Hi. Who’s this?’ replaced his words. It was in a rather fancy font.

‘My name is Harry Potter. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened again,’ Harry wrote, getting to the meat of the issue.

‘Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. So, you’re dealing with the same troubles I faced while in school? A pity the one who opened the chamber in my time was merely expelled, not sentenced to Azkaban,’

‘Can you tell me who this person is?’ Harry hurriedly wrote.

‘Can I show you?’ the diary wrote back.

Harry was confused. Show him? Shrugging, Harry wrote ‘OK’ into the diary, only for the pages to shudder. And then, he was swallowed by a vortex of light.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry stumbled into a black-and-white world, of which he was the only thing that was colored. He was standing on a stairwell, next to a boy his age. “Hello?” Harry asked. The boy ignored him. It then occurred to Harry that it was more than likely that he couldn’t be seen or interacted with. Harry made out the Slytherin crest. ‘Evidently Tom’s a half-blood,’ Harry thought to himself, since there were no muggle-borns in Slytherin. ‘How did I know it was Tom?’ was his second thought. Then, he saw a group of wizards carrying… something down the steps. Harry then noticed a dangling arm. He remembered Draco saying that a muggleborn died. That must’ve been the muggleborn in question. Tom’s hands clenched the banner. Evidently he knew her.

“Riddle?” an older voice called.

Tom turned to the sound of the voice. “Professor Dumbledore?” he asked. Harry’s jaw dropped. Instead of white, his hair was auburn.

“Come here, please,” Dumbledore requested. The fifth year Slytherin obliged. “It is not wise to go wandering around the castle at night, especially after what has happened today,” the younger Dumbledore told Tom.

“I’m sorry, professor. I… I just had to see if the rumors were true…” Tom answered, sounding like he was choking. Harry noticed the tear streaks in his eyes.

“And they are, Tom.”

“E-even the one about the school closing!? Hogwarts is my home! I don’t have anywhere else to go-”

“Trust me, Tom. I do not wish it either, but Headmaster Dippet may have little choice, since the latest attack has resulted in a fatality.”

Tom seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Sir… if it all stopped… if the attacker was caught…” Tom stammered out.

Dumbledore gave Tom a sideways glance. “Is there something you wish to tell me, Tom?” Harry, despite not being the one the glare was directed at, flinched.

“No, sir,” Riddle replied, not showing any outward emotion.

“Very well, then,” Dumbledore replied. “Off you go.”

Riddle nodded, and left. Harry followed the Slytherin down quite a few hallways and staircases. Eventually, they arrived at a door. Riddle drew his wand. Behind the door, they both heard someone talking. “I know, I know, but yer in danger now. They’ll be lookin for any scary creature, and you’d fit teh bill,'' someone said.

Harry recognized that voice immediately. “Hagrid?”

Another, younger voice rang out. “But Papa…” a young female voice said.

Riddle then burst open the door with his wand. “Good evening, Hagrid,” he said. The younger (and Harry had a sinking suspicion that Hagrid was in his third year) half-Giant turned, revealing that he was holding someone. She had black hair in a pink bowtie. Her black eyes were wide- and there were four of them. She had a pink dress on, and was clutching her hands together. However, below the waist, she was all spider. It was like someone had glued a four year old on top of the largest tarantula Harry had ever seen.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to turn you in,” Riddle explained. “I’m sure you never meant for it to kill anyone, but monsters don’t make good pets.”

“NO! Aragog never killed anyone! Look at ‘er! She’s only a baby!” Hagrid protested. “Sides, Acroma-” Riddle pointed his wand at Hagrid’s throat.

“Stop. Talking. You killed the only person who truly cared for me!” Riddle snarled. “You’ll be expelled at the least. Hopefully, you’ll go to Azkaban,” Riddle spat. And then, Harry felt a pull on the back of his head. Before anything else happened, he found himself sitting back on his chair.

“Woah…” he said after a moment. Ron then walked up to the dorms, and saw Harry there, staring off into space.

“Are you alright, mate?” Ron asked.

“...Riddle seemed to think that Hagrid opened the chamber,” Harry said after a moment.

“I call bullshit,” Ron immediately said. “However, that’s our best lead. We’ll have to see where it leads us,” he admitted.

*****

The days began to pass by. Hermione and Ron had made him recount the whole affair several times. After Ron wondered aloud if Hagrid thought about putting a leash on the monster, Harry was stuck with the image of Hagrid putting a toddler leash on that so-called ‘Aragog’. It wouldn’t leave his head, and would pop up at inopportune moments, such as potions class.

“Potter, while Goyle’s attempt was indeed laughable, I highly doubt that was what you were imagining. Care to share?” Snape asked. Harry shook his head, his giggling dying down. The potions master walked away, and went to the front of the class, just in time to stop Crabbe from creating a toxin that would’ve killed everyone in the room. After class, Ron and Hermione joined him again.

“So, should we talk to Hagrid about this? I’m pretty sure that would prove his innocence,” Hermione suggested.

“How would we even do that? ‘Hello Hagrid, it’s nice to see you. Tell us, have you been letting something mad and hairy wander around the castle’?” Ron added.

“How about we ask him if there’s another attack?” Hermione offered. Harry and Ron agreed to that.

*****

As the Easter Holidays came and went, the Second Years had to focus on what classes they’d be taking for the next year.

“Why is there a statement here that talks about maternal care?” Hermione asked after a pause.

“That’s the entire reason for the increase of the school age, Hermione,” Ron explained. “After the war against You-Know-Who, the Ministry of Magic passed Educational Degree number 21, which pushed the admittance age from 11 to 14, lowered the age of consent from 17 to 16, increased the age of adulthood to 20, allowed sex in Hogwarts- no teacher can punish it now- and provided funding for maternity care, along with a small daycare in Hogwarts. The purpose is simply to create more baby wizards, since there has been a population crisis.”

Ron then smirked. “Although, most of the infants that have been born are from half-bloods or muggleborns, since most pure-blood witches and wizards can’t conceive without a fertility potion,” he added.

Hermione, in spite of herself, snorted at that, before going back to picking classes. Before they could finish, they were interrupted by Fred and George.

“Hello Brother,” Fred said.

“Hello Harry, Hermione,” George continued.

“Are you three picking your classes?” the two said at the same time.

“Be careful with your choices, and don’t pick too many or too little,” Fred advised.

“Too many and people will think you feed on stress. Too little and you’ll never get anywhere,” George added.

“You have to find the middle ground, you see. We’re able to help,” Fred finished.

“Really?” Hermione asked, a little suspicious.

“Yeah. For example, don’t take Muggle Studies. It’s a lot of extra homework, and you’re a muggleborn. And no- it’s a lot of fumbling in the dark from a Wizard’s perspective. Even the teacher has to ask Muggleborn students to help her,” George advised. Hermione nodded, and crossed it off her list.

“Now, Divination isn’t really that good of a subject for you, Hermione. You see, it’s mostly guesswork and only a little bit of magic. Trelawny is very good at what she does, but it’s best to ignore anything about people dying.”

Hermione crossed Divination off her list as well. Harry decided to add it to his, as did Ron.

“What about Ancient Runes? Are you going to suggest that I not take it?” Hermione mocked. Fred and George put their hands over their hearts in mock betrayal.

“You wound us, Granger! We know you’d absolutely love the class, so we would suggest you keep it!” Fred exclaimed. Hermione circled it, as did Harry. It sounded interesting.

*****

The final Quidditch match was approaching. It would be Gryffindor Vs. Hufflepuff. To Harry’s surprise, the two teams were willing to share the pitch for practice. The seeker of the Hufflepuffs was a 4th year by the name of Cedric Diggory. “Hey, it’s nice to meet you, Harry,” the fourth year said, offering his hand.

“Y-you too,” Harry stammered.

“Hey Cedric, it’s nice to see you here,” Wood told the seeker. “Also, I’m glad you don’t believe that Harry released whatever the hell attacked people,” he added.

“Hey, Parselmouth or no Parselmouth, only an idiot would believe that rubbish,” Cedirc replied, shaking Wood’s hand as well. “Hey, if we lose next year, you’ll have our support for the Quidditch Cup,” he added.

Wood smirked. “Oh? What about this year?”

Cedric returned the smirk. “Well, it’ll be resting quite comfortably in Professor Sprout’s office.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Wood declared. “We’ll be coming at you full force!”

“We wouldn’t have it any other way, Wood,” Cedric informed the Gryffindor Captain.

*****

These double practices happened almost every day, so Harry had to do his weekly homework in one night. At least the Professors were understanding, even Snape. As Harry and Ron were walking back to the common room, they barged into Neville. “Harry… I don’t know what’s happened, but you have to see this!” the boy gasped. Worried, Harry and Ron followed him to their dormitory, and gasped. The place was completely ransacked! Harry, acting on a hunch, went to the place where he stored Riddle’s Diary. It was gone.

“Ron… the diary’s gone…” he told his friend. “Whoever did this was searching for it… but why?”

Hermione ran up to the dormitory. “It had to be a Gryffindor… but why would they take it? Wasn’t it our only lead?”

******

A few weeks after the diary had been stolen, the day of the Quidditch match had arrived. Harry was a little nervous, though. Diggory smiled at him, and gave him a thumbs up. That helped his nerves a little. What didn’t help were the lustful looks Hermione kept getting from the Slytherins. “Psst, Hermione…” Ron whispered.

“Yes, Ron?” Hermione asked.

“Uhh… you forgot something…” he told her. Harry turned, and blushed. Hermione had obviously forgotten her bra. 

“Hermione? You f-forgot your bra…” Harry got out. Hermione blushed. “I knew I forgot something! I was just thinking about something else and-”

Harry suddenly stopped listening. He heard it.  _ “Musssst… kill…don’t want to, but have to...why?” _

“Harry? You alright, mate?” Ron inquired.

“The voice… it’s back…” Harry whispered. Suddenly, Hermione perked up. Her ears were straight up. “THAT’S IT!” she shouted, leaping to her feet. “I’ll be in the library!” she explained, running off.

“Why do you think she’s going to the library?” Ron mused. Harry shrugged. He didn’t know what Hermione was thinking. Either way, the match was fast approaching. Finally, at 11, they went down to the pitch. Wood gave his usual speech, and the team set out for the center of the field. However, they were stopped by Professor McGonnagal, as she was already standing there.

“I’m sorry, but the match has been canceled,” she announced through a massive purple megaphone.

“What!?” Cedric exclaimed.

Wood was even more distraught. “But Professor- it’s the final… Gryffindor can win the cup… you can’t cancel Quidditch!” he exclaimed, waving his arms around.

McGonnagal put down the megaphone. “Unfortunately I just did,” she told him, before raising it again. “All students will return to their dormitories immediately!” She then lowered the megaphone again. “Potter, Weasley, you two should come with me,” she told them. Harry was confused. Did she suspect he had something to do with whatever was going on?

She led them to the Hospital Wing. “There’s been another attack- and it’s a double attack as well,” she told them, showing the results. Madam Pomfrey was tending to the 6th year Ravenclaw that they’d accidentally mistook as a Slytherin. But it was who was next to her that made them stop.

“Hermione…” Ron gasped.

“They were found near the library. The other girl- Penelope Clearwater- was holding this,” she told them, showing them a mirror. “Now, let me walk you to the dormitories. I have to make an announcement there, anyways.”

When they arrived, McGonnagal told them the new rules. Teachers would be escorting the students wherever they went, Curfew was 6 PM, Quidditch was postponed, and all evening activities were canceled. “To be perfectly honest, we’re all on edge. If the attacker isn’t caught, the school may have to close,” she admitted, before leaving. When she did, the murmuring started.

“Alright, we’re down a Ravenclaw, a Hufflepuff, two Griffyndors, and the Gryffindor Ghost,” Lee Jordan said aloud. “Has anyone noticed that the Slytherins are safe? Or that they’re mostly smirking at us? Wouldn’t it be easier to just chuck the lot of them out?” he asked. There were nods of approval.

Fred clenched his fist. “We heard some of them wishing they knew who it was so they could  _ help them _ ,” he snarled. George nodded. Harry and Ron looked at each other. Apparently it wasn’t only Draco who shared that sentiment. Harry expected Percy to step in, but he was just staring at nothing.

“Clearwater is a Prefect. He’s in shock,” George explained.

Harry was only half-listening at that point. Hermione was just lying in the hospital wing, completely helpless. Now, Hogwarts was in danger of closing. He couldn’t imagine having to go back to the Dursley’s. “Ron… we have to see Hagrid.”

*****

That night, the two of them walked out under the invisibility cloak. Harry had never seen the castle so… oppressive. The teachers, ghosts, and Prefects were tense, looking out for anything. Unfortunately, this made the two more nervous, since the invisibility cloak didn’t mask noise. So, when Ron cursed after tripping only yards from Snape, the potions professor turned to look right at them, before giving a smile. “It appears it was nothing. Either way, if it was a student, they’d be caught going out the front doors. They’d have to take the secret passage two doors down and to the right. That would lead them outside the castle without anyone noticing,” he said, looking right at them. Harry and Ron got the hint, and followed the instructions. Sure enough, they soon found themselves outside the castle, not far from Hagrid’s Hut.

“That was…” Ron began, trailing off.

“Helpful?” Harry asked.

“Terrifying,” Ron corrected him, walking up to Hagrid’s door. He knocked once, and was met with a crossbow aimed at him.

“Oh… hello Ron,” Hagrid said sheepishly, lowering his weapon. “Come in, come in,” he told them. Harry and Ron did so.

“I woulda made some tea, but I’m not expectin’ friendly company,” he told the two.

“I kind of guessed that,” Harry answered, pointing to the crossbow. Before Harry could say anything else, there was a loud knock on his door. Looking at each other, Harry and Ron threw the invisibility cloak over themselves, and hid in a corner. Hagrid grabbed his crossbow, and opened the door. Harry saw Dumbledore there.

“Good evening, Hagrid,” the Headmaster said. Harry then noticed someone else was there. Ron gained a shocked expression. “This is Cornelius Fudge, The Minister of Magic,” Dumbledore added, introducing the two. Fudge just walked in, not shaking Hagrid’s hand. He then turned to Hagrid.

“There’s been a series of rather unfortunate events, hasn’t there, Hagrid? A half blood and two Muggleborn students attacked-”

“Three,” Dumbledore corrected. “Miss Granger was attacked, Minister,”

  
  


“Yes, yes, of course,” the Minister stated. “However, I’m worried that, in light of the higher attack, it was prudent to come.”

Harry had the impression that the Minister didn’t care about the Muggleborn students.

“I have to be seen doing something, after all. Therefore, in light of Rubeus Hagrid’s record-”

“Are you suggesting that Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets and attacked my students, Minister?” Dumbledore softly inquired. His tone was mild, but with an undercurrent that made his kindly appearance all the more threatening.

“I’m sorry, Dumbledore,” Fudge said, clearly not looking at the Headmaster’s face. “But consider his record. If it turns out he’s innocent, he’ll be returned to his house after his confinement.”

“No! Not Azkaban! You can’t take me there!” Hagrid exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, but I must,” Fudge explained.

“I’m sure there will be a trial, correct?” Dumbledore asked. Harry wondered why he’d ask something like that.

“I’m sorry, Albus, but I don’t think there will be time-”

“You mean it wouldn’t be convenient for you or your backers, just like last time,” Dumbledore… growled!?

“If you’re referring to him, you’ll know the evidence was ironclad! There was no need for a trial!” Before the conversation could continue, there was another knock on the door. The Minister went to open it, and a tall, blonde man walked through. It was Lucius Malfoy. Harry nearly gasped aloud. What was Draco’s dad doing here?

“Ah, Fudge. You’re here. And so is Dumbledore. Good,” the blonde man said, striding into Hagrid’s house.

“‘Ey! Get out of my house!” the groundskeeper roared.

“You simpleton! Do you really think I want to be in… you call this your house?”

Harry wondered if Snape’s Headache-away spell would make Lucius go away.

“Two muggleborn students, and, more alarmingly, a half-blood, have been attacked, Albus,” Mr. Malfoy explained.

“Unless you cannot count, Lucius, the number of victims is four,” Dumbledore supplied in a helpful tone.

“Really? You think Miss Granger is a human? See, Minister? Further proof that Professor Dumbledore has lost his mind,” Lucius supplied.

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Ron mouthed ‘This is normal’.

  
  


Fudge nodded. “He tried to correct me as well. However, sane or not, he’s still the Headmaster,” the Minister replied.

“Well, thankfully, you’re wrong there. I have with me an order of suspension. You’ll find all twelve signatures on it.”

“Yeh… yeh can’t be serious! Minister, he had to ‘ave threatened the rest o’ the governors! If Dumbledore leaves, the muggleborns won’ stand a chance!” Hagrid protested.

Fudge looked at Hagrid like he was stupid, before turning to Lucius, who handed him the order of suspension. “Well, I see the signatures on it. Very well Dumbledore, it appears you are suspended.”

“Very well, but do be warned- both of you. Any attempt to remove students from the school for their appearance or blood will be met with my… fervent disapproval.” With that, Dumbledore left. Hagrid was taken with the Minister and Lucius.

“Yeh know… if anyone wanted to know wha’ was going on, all they’d have to do is follow the spiders,” Hagrid said aloud, before he was escorted out. Fang began to bark mournfully. Harry and Ron pulled off the invisibility cloak.

“Hagrid’s right… with Dumbledore gone, the attacks are going to skyrocket…” Ron said aloud.


	4. Chapter 4

If Harry thought the mood was oppressive before, it was downright Orwellian now. The teachers were looking every which way, and unless you had a teacher’s pass, you couldn’t visit the petrified students. Madam Pomfrey was worried that whoever did this would come to finish them off- or someone would draw on them. Apparently a fourth year Slytherin had written ‘cumslut’ on Hermione’s chest, and was now in the Hospital Wing due to being beaten to a bloody pulp by a Hufflepuff who had been visiting Justin. There was little laughter, and what was there was forced. Even some of the Slytherins were nervous- it was evident that half bloods were now also in the crosshairs. Harry and Ron kept looking for spiders, but it appeared that they had all left the castle. Additionally, they couldn’t wander since they were herded to their next class by teachers. The teachers also had their wands out, and twitched at the slightest noise. Harry and Ron found it irksome, but the rest of the students seemed safer.

However, not every student was terrified. Draco Malfoy was strutting around like he owned the castle, his head in the air. He’d laugh cruelly at any worried looks, and sneer at anyone who crossed his path. Harry didn’t find out why Draco was acting worse than usual until a potions class two weeks after Hermione was petrified.

“I always thought Father would be the one to finally get rid of Dumbledore,” he told Crabbe and Goyle. “He always said that he was the worst Headmaster the school has ever had. Maybe now the governors will appoint a new Headmaster, a proper one! Hopefully the new one will want to keep the Chamber of Secrets open as well…” he fantasized, smiling at the thought. Snape was walking by, so Harry couldn’t risk attacking Malfoy for that. 

“Father could get in touch with some old friends- maybe the Carrow twins could share the job,” Draco mused. Snape was still standing nearby. “Honestly, it’s amazing that the mudbloods haven’t packed their bags by now. Hey! Weasley! I’ll bet your entire family’s vault- five galleons- that the next mudblood dies!” he mocked. Ron’s ears went red.

“Don’t,” Harry whispered.

“You know, it’s a pity Granger didn’t. Being a mudblood wasn’t bad enough for her… now she’s a half-breed,” he spat.

Now Harry was wishing Snape would turn his back.

Draco turned to Pansy Parkison. “You know, I think I figured out how Granger was getting her good grades,” he told her.

“Oh?” Pansy asked.

“Yeah. I bet she’s been spreading her legs for those Os.”

Now Harry and Ron were reaching for their wands.

“And, get this, Father told me that Potter’s mother was bright like that as well, and, admittedly, decently good looking.”

Now Snape visibly twitched, although only Harry saw it.

“I bet she is Granger’s role model- a filthy mudblood slut, spreading her legs for anyone for a shred of status!” Crabe, Goyle, and Pansy burst out laughing.

Harry was now ready to leap from his seat and drown Draco in his cauldron. However, before he could, Snape whirled around on Draco, with his eyes blazing with fury. Harry had never seen the professor so furious- and that was saying something. For him, time seemed to stand still. And then, as if in slow motion, Snape’s right hand curled into a fist, and just as Draco was turning to him, Snape’s fist hit him square in the jaw in the best example of a right hook Harry had ever seen. Draco was knocked back, his chair pushed back five inches.

“Fifty. Points. From. Slytherin,” Snape snarled, eyes burning with fury.

There was stunned silence. The Gryffindors were looking at each other in what could only be described as naked awe. Draco looked at Snape in what could only be described as betrayal.

“We’re done here. Now, I will escort you all to Herbology,” he growled, not looking at anyone. Harry and Ron only managed to pick up their jaws when they were halfway there.

“Did… did that just happen?” Ron whispered to Harry.

“I… I think so?” Harry replied, confused.

The class soon reached Herbology. The Gryffindors split from the Slytherins, and they met up with the Hufflepuffs. The class was even more subdued then potions were, due to them missing two students. They were soon put to work in pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. As Harry removed some weeds, he found himself staring at Ernie Macmillina. “Hey Harry… I just… I just want you to know I’m sorry I ever suspected you. I know you’d never lay a finger on Hermione, and… well… we’re all in the same boat now… do you have any idea who it could be?”

“None,” Harry replied truthfully, before he saw something. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a group of spiders. They were moving in an unnaturally straight line. “Ron, look,” he whispered. His friend turned, and saw what was going on.

“W-well… there they are,” he whimpered. Harry nodded, and traced the direction they were going with his fingers.

“They’re going into the Forbidden Forest,” he told his friend. Ron gulped heavily at that. “We’ll have to go tonight.” Ron looked like he was about to faint, but nodded.

*****

That night, Harry and Ron got out the invisibility cloak, and went down the passage Snape had told them about. They reached Hagrid’s hut without much difficulty, and opened the door. As was normal for large dogs, Fang began to make happy barking sounds when he had company he knew over. Harry and Ron were almost certain that the barks would wake up the entire castle, so Harry grabbed some treacle toffee that Hagrid had made before he was taken away, and fed it to Fang. The sticky cooking glued his teeth together without much trouble. “All right, Fang. We’re going for a walk,” Harry told the dog. Fang perked up at the word ‘walk’ and wagged his tail happily. The three then left the hut. “Lumos!” Harry whispered, light pouring from his wand.

“I’d light mine up as well, but it would probably explode,” Ron sadly told his friend. 

Harry shrugged. “Ron, it’s not like you’re that accident-prone,” Harry comforted his first friend.

Ron shrugged. “I guess… and after all, even if I was, it’s not like any accidents I cause are serious,” he added, feeling better. Just then, he froze. Harry caught sight of two small spiders scurrying away. Ron shivered, and then steeled himself. “Alright… I’m ready. Let’s go,” he said. Harry nodded, and they walked off into the forest. “There’s nothing good that can come of this…” Ron muttered.

*****

The three followed the spiders for what felt like hours. They had to keep them in the light of Harry’s wand, as everything outside of that was pitch black. Harry noted that he’d never been this deep into the forest before. They also had to walk more slowly, as the trees kept getting thicker and thicker. Harry could feel Fang’s breath on his hands. Occasionally he’d pet the dog, which calmed him. Suddenly, Fang began to growl. “Fang?” Harry asked, looking around. Then, Ron let out a soundless shriek of fear. Harry turned around, only to be caught in the pincers of a massive spider. From the light, Harry could see two other giant spiders grabbing onto Ron and Fang. They were then picked up, and carried… somewhere, before they were dropped on the ground unceremoniously. 

_“Of course it had to be fucking spiders,”_ Ron thought as he and Harry were dumped into a clearing covered entirely with thick, dense webbing.

Scrambling to their feet, the two saw rows of elephant-sized spiders ringing the clearing, drumming their feet on the ground in terrifying unison. There was a massive cave on the far side of the clearing. Ron put himself between it and his friend.

“Listen, Harry,” he began, drawing his broken wand, “whatever’s gonna come out of there, we both know it isn’t gonna be good. If I say run, you run, okay?”

Harry drew his own wand in response. He snapped, “Ron, there’s no chance in hell I’m letting you stay behind, don’t even suggest it!”

“Listen, you’re not going to die here, alright? Of the two of us, I’m expendable,” Ron told him. 

_Expendable._ Ron had always known what he was, and he’d never really had a problem with it. The youngest son in a family of six sons, a blood traitor in a world of haughty purebloods, the _other_ sidekick to the Boy Who Lived, the one who wasn’t brilliant. Pure chance had put him on the same train car as Harry; he knew that well.

It was better than having responsibilities, he’d always figured. It left him free to take risks, make the plays that others couldn’t. When it came down to it, Ron had never minded being the sacrifice. He’d done it in first year, to give his friends a chance to stop the resurrection of Voldemort in that gauntlet.

He’d do it again against a horde of _fucking massive spiders_ if he had to, to get Harry Potter out of here. Harry opened his mouth to respond, to show off the loyalty and heroism that Lockhart could only dream of, but they were cut off by a hiss from a thousand mandibles.

_“Aragog! Aragog!”_ the spiders chanted, as though summoning something.

Finally, a truly enormous spider left the cave. Its legs unfolded like origami, spreading out across the clearing as its beady eyes focused on the two wizards standing back-to-back on the opposite side of the clearing. Ron raised his wand, hoping that the spell wouldn’t fucking backfire again. Then, the spider _spoke,_ and Ron knew that he must be having a nightmare again.

“Who are you?” it asked, its humming mandibles somehow producing human speech, “are you fresh meat?” _Oh hell no, Ron was not going to be a late night snack for a spider the size of a small country home._

“Who are _you?”_ Ron retorted. Okay, maybe not his best comeback.

The spider’s eyes focused on him alone, ignoring Harry. Good. “I...am Aragog,” it-no, she, that was definitely a woman’s voice-answered, seeming almost puzzled.

“I’m Ron Weasley, and this is Harry Potter,” Ron told her, hoping that this was the kind of monster that appreciated politeness, like hippogriffs.

“ _Weasssley…”_ Aragog repeated, as though testing out the sound, “is too hard. You will be _Fire-hair._ Why have you come, Fire-hair?”

You know what? Ron wasn’t going to argue about his name with a giant fucking spider that could talk. Maybe this was a good sign! Ron certainly didn’t name his food before he ate it, maybe she was the same? He replied, “Hagrid sent us. We want to ask you about the monster that supposedly attacked a student back when he raised you in the castle.”

Suddenly, Aragog reared back, crashing back down with a thud. “Father sent you?” she asked, almost... _eagerly?_

Ron said, “Yeah, he did. So...maybe _don’t_ eat us?”

“Where is Father?” Aragog demanded, “he hasn’t come to visit lately!”

Ron hesitated; somewhere behind him, Harry winced. At last, Ron said, “He...was falsely accused, just like when you lived in the castle with him. Whatever attacked students back then, it’s doing it again, and people are scared. We want to prove him innocent.”

“Ah,” Aragog said, “I see. I...Forgive me, it has been some time since I last spoke to a human. Give me a moment.”

Suddenly, the spider’s form blurred and shrank, morphing so quickly Ron’s eyes hurt just watching it. When Aragog was done, Ron realized that she had turned into the form Harry had described from the diary’s vision, a drider with the lower body of a massive spider (though much smaller than her fully spider form) and the top half of a woman. There was one _small_ difference from Harry’s description, though. The bow-haired toddler from the diary had... _grown up._

Ron gulped as he stared into the four pure-black eyes of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her human body began just below her waist, shining white skin melting into dark fuzz the same color as the silky black hair that fell like a waterfall down her back. The only clothing she wore was a band of silk that barely held her enormous, perfectly formed breasts in place. Her face was equally pale, with full red lips, round cheeks, and a high brow. She looked _regal,_ like a queen from an old fairytale. “So, Fire-hair,” Aragog began, “give me a reason why I should not kill you.”

Ron could think of _several_ reasons, thank you very much. As Harry spluttered behind him, Ron said, “Wait, we just said we’re friends of Hagrid! Isn’t that enough?”

“That is enough for me to _consider_ not killing you,” Aragog replied, “but one does not wander into the realm of the Acromantula lightly.”

“Why do you want to kill us?” Ron asked her.

“My children are hungry, and fresh meat does not come very often,” Aragog told him, gesturing to the uneasy, shuffling crowds of huge spiders around the edge of the clearing.

Right, that made sense. Now, back to stalling.

“Acromantula?” Is that what you are?” Ron asked, mostly playing for time to get Harry to edge towards the outside of the clearing.

Aragog nodded as she replied, “Indeed. We were created many centuries ago, apparently, by a Dark wizard who desired companionship as well as an army.”

_“And apparently had a spider fetish,”_ Ron surmised, _“god, I wish I could meet that fucker and turn his balls into turnips.”_

Alright, back to convincing the giant fucking spider lady to not kill them. “Why did you call Hagrid _Father?”_ he asked Aragog, who thankfully seemed more than willing to indulge his curiosity.

“He raised me,” Aragog replied, “and when I was falsely accused of attacking students, he helped me escape into this forest. Later, when I was of a...certain age, he introduced me to my wife.”

_“You know what? The least weird part of the sentence “Lesbian spider-woman who wants to feed me to her spider-babies” is the lesbian part,”_ Ron decided. He said, “I see. So, you _didn’t_ attack those students?”

Aragog looked indignant. “Of course not!” she huffed, “I was the equivalent of a human four-year-old! I couldn’t have hurt them if I _wanted_ to! For the record, I _did_ want to, they were mean to Father, but he convinced me not to.”

Ron felt himself settling into a rhythm with her now. This was no longer threats, this was a conversation, a negotiation.

And Ron lived in a house with five older brothers and Molly Weasley. He was an expert at convincing people he wasn’t worth the trouble.

“So if you didn’t attack those students, who did?” he wondered, “if we could figure that out, we could bring Hagrid back and clear his name.”

Aragog looked thoughtful as she said, “I suppose so. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you. _She_ is too terrible and fearsome to ever be defeated by the likes of _you,_ Fire-hair.”

_“Great, a female monster even other monsters are scared of,”_ Ron thought to himself, _“because my life isn’t shitty enough.”_

“Why can’t you tell us?” he asked.

“Because, I am afraid to,” Aragog responded, “the one controlling her...knows about me, and would certainly attack if I ever revealed what I know. And I must protect my children and my wife above all else.”

Ron...could respect that. He replied, “I understand. But my friend is lying in a hospital bed because she got attacked by that monster. Please, if you can help us, we promise we won’t tell anyone how we know.”

“It does not matter,” Aragog said, “he will find out anyway. He is the most powerful wizard I have ever seen.”

Okay, that wasn’t good. Well, time for Ron’s other skill: bluffing. “Are you sure?” Ron challenged.

“Am I sure of what?” Aragog said, confused.

“That whoever you’re talking about is the greatest wizard you’ve ever seen?” Ron said, “after all, Harry’s right here!” Harry jumped as Ron gestured to him, with a sort of presenting jazz-hands gesture.

“Um, Ron, what are you talking abou-“ Harry began, only to get cut off by Ron’s “don’t-screw-this-up” glare.

“What are you talking about, Fire-hair?” Aragog demanded.

“Harry here is the most powerful wizard of his generation!” Ron said, hoping that he was being convincing, “he took on Voldemort himself when he was just a baby! Blew the bastard up and everything!”

There was a chittering rustle among the spiders; Aragog’s eyes suddenly narrowed as though she was suddenly interested. _“Voldemort,_ you say? You defeated _Voldemort?”_ Aragog asked, her voice intrigued.

With a glare from Ron, Harry nodded and said, “Uh, y-yeah! I did!”

“Twice!” Ron added, “Harry here beat him _again_ last year, just for good measure!” Aragog thought for a minute; Ron and Harry could only sit and wait for her decision. Then, there was an interruption. Another spider, smaller than Aragog, raced down the slope into the clearing, blurring into drider form as she headed for her...mother?

Ron saw that the young woman, the spitting image of Aragog minus roughly three decades-and she was _young_ , not much older-looking than Ron or Harry-was now chittering excitedly to Aragog, in a strange language neither of the wizards could hope to follow. They could only try to guess what was going on from the gestures the two spider-women made.

Aragog pointed at Harry and said something that made her daughter shake her head. The daughter pointed to Ron, and chittered again, saying something that finally made Aragog nod slowly. Once her mother had done that, the younger spider-woman-thing (Ron was having trouble keeping track at this point) started jumping up and down with excitement, a very strange spectacle when she had eight spider legs bouncing her entire torso off the ground.

At last, Aragog turned back to the duo, her daughter by her side.

“Very well, Fire-hair,” she intoned, “you have convinced me. I shall let you live, and give you what help I can. I do, however, have one request.”

Ron felt like joining Aragog’s daughter in prancing with glee. They weren’t out of the woods yet, though, so Ron got control of himself once more. Coughing, he said, “Of course, Aragog. What’s your request?”

Aragog gestured to her daughter, who stood with visibly pent-up excitement.

“This is my 127th daughter, Ariana,” Aragog explained, “she is approaching the time when Acromantula females must set out on their own. It is a tradition, Fire-hair, for Acromantula to seek out strength to add to their own line. You have shown...perhaps not great wisdom in _coming_ here, but great bravery, certainly, and great strength in your words to me. Would you join your strength to ours?”

Ron had only _very_ rough knowledge of Acromantula culture, but he was fairly sure that Aragog was just asking for a way to ensure equal honor for both sides. Helping her daughter set up somewhere new in exchange for her help with the monster? That seemed like a fair deal.

Ron nodded. “I accept,” he said seriously.

Aragog smiled and announced, “Then it is done! Go, my daughter, and enjoy your future. Fire-hair, Ariana has been given the information I know on what haunts your castle. Once you fulfill the bond, she will be able to help you. I look forward to meeting my grandchildren! Now, I suggest you leave before my other children get… jealous.”

Aragog winked at them, hugged her daughter, then waved them off.

Ron figured that leaving now was a good idea, and as Ariana stepped forward to join them, he and Harry turned to leave. Then, Aragog’s words sank in, and Ron froze as he remembered the rest of what he knew about Acromantula culture. The tradition Aragog had mentioned was _marrying_ into strong families. And her words... _fulfilling the bond? Grandchildren?_

Ron had a _bad_ feeling about this.

As they left the clearing, Ron turned to Ariana, trying to ignore the way she scuttled along the ground with spider legs yet hummed and smiled like a human.

“So, uh, Ariana, huh? I didn’t know Acromantula gave their kids human names,” Ron said conversationally.

Ariana smiled as she replied, “Well, actually, my name is-“ She let out a long string of chittering noises that Ron couldn’t understand; it sounded like someone dumping dried rice into a bowl.

At last, she finished, “-but you can call me Ari!”

Ron nodded. “So, Ari,” he asked, “forgive me if I’m wrong, but did I just agree to what I think I agreed to?”

Harry was watching them with concern, unable to follow without the knowledge of Acromantula culture. Ari nodded. “Yep!” she confirmed, “you’re my husband now!”

Harry let out a strange sound of disbelief; Ron just put his head in his hands. “Yeah,” he said weakly, “that’s what I thought.”

“Oh, by the way, nice bluff with the superstrong wizard thing! I don’t think my mom noticed, but I thought it was _super_ brave of you!” Ari added, leaning forward to kiss Ron on the cheek. He couldn’t help but blush, both from her words, and from the fact that a _gorgeous_ woman his age was complimenting him and kissing him. Oh, and she was basically naked from the waist up, and maybe also his wife?

This shit was too confusing for Ron to process right now. He reminded himself, _“She is a spider, you stupid, stupid idiot. You hate spiders. You are not attracted to this spider girl. You are_ not.”

“Can you turn any more...human?” he asked, trying not to sound _too_ desperate.

Ari giggled. “Of course I can!” she replied, “how else are we going to _mate?”_ Ron _really_ didn’t like the sound of that. He tried to distract himself by watching her lower body blur and take the shape of human legs. _Very attractive legs._

Her appearance now fully human except for her four pitch-black eyes and barely-visible mandibles inside her mouth, Ari was a bit shorter than Ron, with pale white skin, the same regal face and jet-black hair as her mother, and absolutely _perfect_ curves, without a speck of stray fat anywhere. Oh, and she was also naked, which meant those curves were now seared into Ron’s brain.

Blushing, he covered his eyes, as did Harry. Ari just giggled again at them, though she started shivering from the cold pretty quickly. Thinking fast, Ron conjured up a blanket (thank god his wand didn’t fuck up somehow and make this whole situation even weirder than it already was) and wrapped it around Ari, who smiled gratefully.

They began to make their way back to the castle in silence, save for Ari’s sighs every time she leaned against him for warmth and Harry’s muffled snorts of hysterical laughter at the whole damn thing. Ron felt tempted to join him, but he also didn’t want to upset Ari. It’s not like this was _her_ fault, and besides, they _really_ needed the information she had.

He couldn’t help but regret his brief attack of heroism, though. Ron, the greatest arachnophobe to ever attend Hogwarts, had just managed to marry himself off to a _fucking spider girl._

  
Excellent. Absolutely _bloody_ excellent.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being Ron Weasley is suffering.

“I’m sorry,” Harry interrupted,  _ “what?  _ I have no idea what’s going on here.”

Ron was almost grateful for his friend’s question-it distracted him from wanting to scream at the top of his lungs. He and Ari exchanged a glance, silently debating on who would explain their new situation to the Muggle-raised boy. Ron didn’t like the fact that he could already understand her facial expressions so well.

Finally, Ron shrugged and said, “You do it, you know more than I do.”

Ari nodded, turning to Harry as they entered the castle grounds. She began, “Like my mom said, Acromantula have a tradition of marrying strong bloodlines to increase their magical power and our own.”

“And she decided that Ron’s bloodline was strong enough?” Harry asked, in a tone that Ron wasn’t sure if he should feel vindicated or insulted by.

“Actually,  _ I  _ did,” Ari corrected him. Harry and Ron stared at her in disbelief. Ari just snickered at their confusion, a very strange noise to make when her buzzing fangs added a slight hum to her musical voice. She explained, “Acromantula women naturally start looking for a suitable mate once they hit breeding age. I reached it...oh, a few months ago, and ever since, I’ve been doing everything I can to find a nice, fertile man. When Ronnie stood up to my mom and convinced her not to eat you, I  _ knew  _ you were the one. So I went down to her and asked for her blessing.”

_ “Please  _ don’t call me Ronnie,” Ron protested weakly. Ari just smiled at him, and he felt his anger drain away in spite of himself. He tried not to think about the words  _ “breeding age”  _ and  _ “fertile man.”  _ He was already freaking out enough without adding horny spider-wives who wanted his babies to the mix.

Harry still looked confused. He asked, “Hang on, so you’re actually saying you’re his  _ wife  _ now? Just from that? Shouldn’t there be...I don’t know, a ceremony or something?”

Ari shook her head, while Ron just sighed. She answered, “Acromantula like me don’t care much about ceremonies and pomp like that. For us, it’s thoughts and actions that matter. If two people agree that they’re married and say so, then they’re married. We leave decisions like that up to them, and up to magic. Marriage like this creates a… bond, basically, between Ron’s magic and mine.  _ That’s  _ what defines marriage for sentient magical creatures like me. Ron and I share that bond now.” Harry looked questioningly at Ron, who nodded.

“She’s right,” he added quietly, “I can already feel it forming.” He was telling the truth; whenever he looked at Ari, he could feel his magic  _ sing,  _ as though she was home, a place both familiar and comforting. She smiled reassuringly at Ron, clearly feeling the same. It wouldn’t reach the level of telepathy, he knew that, but it  _ would  _ make them sensitive to each other’s emotions, and magic itself would always keep them together.

“Can you break it or something?” Harry asked, trying not to sound like he was suggesting that they should. Ron and Ari shook their heads in unison.

Drawing on countless lessons from his childhood, Ron explained, “That’s a  _ bad  _ idea, Harry. It’s something every witch and wizard learns as soon as they start showing magical ability:  _ Never, ever,  _ try to fight your magic. Now that I’ve formed a bond like this, my magic itself is linked with her. If I try to break it...well, it  _ might  _ work, at the cost of my magic, my sanity, or my life. It might kill her, too.” Ari flinched a little, unconsciously. Ron had to fight the urge to put a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

Harry whistled. “Damn,” he said, “that’s... _ bad.” _

Ron huffed, “Yeah. Trust me, I’m not exactly thrilled about this, but I’m not about to break it, either. Besides, if I’m guessing correctly...Ari, does your mom still play by the old rules?”

Ari nodded. “Yes,” she confirmed, “you are blood of her blood, and will be treated as such.”

Harry asked, “What does that mean?”

“Acromantulas work off a feudal system, Harry,” Ron answered, “Marriage is an alliance as much as anything else, and you link the families together when you do it. Which means…I’m  _ technically _ spider royalty now, I guess?”

Ari agreed, “Yeah, you are. Mom is the last Acromantula Queen left in Britain, and while I’m not her heir…”

“I’ve just formed an alliance with a race of immensely powerful magical beings, which could be  _ super  _ useful in the future,” Ron finished. He tried to ignore how he and Ari were already speaking in unison, building off of each other to form a greater whole.

Harry was thoughtful for a moment. Eventually, he said, “Alright, that...well, it doesn’t make  _ sense,  _ but I get it, I suppose. I’d imagine you have a lot to figure out, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ron replied, looking meaningfully at Ari, “I think we’re going to need to have a _talk_ about this soon. Figuring out how sleeping is going to work is probably our first priority, especially since I don’t think the bond will be happy if we’re separated for too long.” Ari looked at Ron with an expression that might have been a suggestive wink, although it was a little hard to tell when she had four pitch-black eyes.

Harry’s eyes went wide as a thought crossed his mind. “Oh god, how are we supposed to explain this to McGonagall?” he asked, “or the rest of the House?”

“I don’t know,” Ron said, “I’m honestly more scared of Fred and George’s reaction than I am of the  _ Slytherins. _ ”

“Who are...Fred and George?” Ari asked as Harry froze in fear at the thought of the snakes’ reaction to another inhuman member of the school.

“My older brothers,” Ron answered, “And the most brutal pranksters in Hogwarts history. They’re going to tear me a new one, I know it already.”

Ari didn’t seem particularly bothered by that. Instead, she asked, “Are they cute like you? I have a few sisters who are still looking for mates…” 

Ron decided to ignore the  _ “cute”  _ part of her question for now. Instead, he begged,  _ “For the love of all that is holy, do not try to set my brothers up with Acromantula.” _

Ari giggled, and Ron tried desperately not to enjoy the happy, melodic tones of her voice, or the way she pressed against his shoulder as Harry finally slung the invisibility cloak back over them for the final leg of their journey.  _ “You are  _ not _ crushing on the sexy spider-girl who is also your wife,”  _ he told himself. Ron was good at lying to himself.

*****

Compared to the outbound trip, the trek back up to the Gryffindor common room was uneventful. Ron and Harry silently agreed to ask Ari about the monster tomorrow; enough had happened for today, and they didn’t want her to be any more overwhelmed. As it was, she wanted to rush around the empty room and touch everything, having never been outside the Forbidden Forest before. 

Eventually, though, Ron and Harry managed to coax her up the stairs with them, still trying to cover their eyes whenever she got too excited and started to fling the blanket off of her. 

When they reached their floor, Ron and Harry looked at each other, while Ari rushed over to Ron’s bed and promptly yanked back the curtains, hopping in with a  _ “Wheeee!” _

Ron asked, “Wait, why is my bed so much bigger on the inside now?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe Hogwarts recognizes you’re married now, so it adjusted to compensate?” he mused as Ari continued to rub her cheek against the soft blankets.

“But why?” Ron complained, “Couldn’t it just...I don’t know, give Ari her own bed or something?”

“Gotta keep those pureblood numbers up somehow,” Harry cracked, and then they were both laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

At last, they calmed down again, and Harry said, “Hey, by the way...that was incredible, what you did back there. Thank you.”

Equally seriously, Ron told him, “It wasn’t that big a deal, Harry. I was terrified the whole time. You don’t have to thank me.”

Harry snorted and replied, “You stood up to a gigantic talking spider with a broken wand and talked her into helping us. That’s a pretty big deal, I’d say. And of course you were terrified! That just makes it more badass, I’d say.”

Ron rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I, ah, I don’t know about that…” he muttered, “I’ve been about ten seconds from passing out ever since we got dumped in that clearing.”

Harry told him, “No, Ron. It was  _ incredible.  _ Now, then, I’m fucking  _ wiped.  _ You can go pass out now that you’re with your wife,  _ Your Majesty.” _

Ron wasn’t sure what part of that last sentence he hated more, but he obliged anyway, crossing over to where Ari had managed to roll herself into a blanket burrito, with only the top of her head poking out to stare at the world with wide, adorable eyes.

He closed the curtains, and the world fell silent. He turned to help gently unravel Ari from the blankets, doing his best to ignore the fact that she was  _ still  _ completely naked. Ron managed to get himself under the redistributed blankets with minimal difficulty, but he had one last thing to do. “In the morning, we need to talk,” he told Ari, who lay next to him, her head on a pillow for the first time in her life.

She looked back at him with round, sleepy eyes. Yawning, she agreed, “Yeah. For what it’s worth...I’m sorry I did this to you.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s fine,” Ron assured her.

He found that it was the truth. For all that his life had changed today, he couldn’t find it in him to be mad about it. He was one step closer to helping Hermione, he’d maybe made an alliance with an Acromantula Queen, and he’d discovered something about himself, out there in the woods with a monster in front of him and a friend behind.

Ron had always been willing to make the sacrifice play, but he trusted his friends to do everything possible to keep that from being necessary.

With that thought in mind, he finally let himself pass out. What could he say? He’d seen enough spiders for a  _ lifetime,  _ even if his life would have considerably more spiders in it now.

As soon as his unconscious form hit the pillow, Ari snuggled up to him, basking in his warmth.

She’d been scared at first, leaving everything she’d ever known on a gut feeling that this fire-headed boy was the one for her. But now, she was certain that he was. She just hoped he would let her stay.

*****

The next morning, Ron had forgotten all about the events of the night for a blissful moment as he woke up. Then, he heard a sigh, and looked down to see Ari slotted neatly against his side, her head resting on his chest. 

He realized with a jolt that the bond must have finished forming overnight; just  _ looking _ at her gave his chest a tender warmth he’d never felt before, filling the air with the sensation of joyous magic. Still acting in a sleepy haze where he couldn’t think better of it, Ron reached out to gently mesh his fingers into Ari’s long, straight hair. He marveled at how soft and silky it was, gently running his fingers through the black strands as he blinked sleep from his eyes.

At last, Ari shifted as well, her many eyes opening in unison as she stared up at him shyly.

“Hi,” she said quietly. Ron remembered that yeah, he still wasn’t  _ super  _ excited about the whole marrying-a-spider thing. Still, he wasn’t really  _ mad  _ at Ari for any of this.

“Hello, Ari,” he replied, “I...think we’re up a bit early. Do you want to have that talk now?”

“Okay,” she agreed, shifting up to meet his eyes, “What do you want to talk about?”

Doing his best to ignore how very naked she  _ still  _ was, Ron answered, “You and me. Whatever… this is, I guess.”

Ari cocked her head. She replied, “Okay. I’m sorry, for starters.”

“Sorry for what?” Ron asked.

Ari looked down, picking at the pillowcase as she explained, “Trapping you in this, without you realizing. I should have explained it better, maybe actually asked myself instead of-“

Ron put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” he whispered softly, “You don’t need to apologize. I’m still a little annoyed that I got roped into this, I’ll admit, but I’m not mad at you. You asked for this, but I agreed to it, even if I didn’t know what it was. That’s my fault, and I’m the only one who can be blamed.”

Ari still didn’t look up. “But I still claimed you,” she said, “Still made you mine, even though you didn’t want to be. And now we can’t undo it, and you’re stuck with me.”

Ron admitted, “Honestly, I don’t hate the idea of being stuck with you as much as I thought I would.”

Ari perked up a little. Timidly, she said, “R-really?”

Ron nodded. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why himself, but seeing Ari in a place like this, as a  _ person  _ and not as a spider, made him a little less worried for a future where she was by his side. 

He said, “Yeah, it’s just that...well, I always imagined myself marrying someone I loved.”

Ari looked at him curiously again. “This might be a weird question, but...what do you mean?” she asked quietly.

Ron stared at her for a long moment before he said, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What do I mean about what?”

“Marrying for love,” Ari replied, “Is...is that a thing humans do? Acromantula...we don’t. It’s not expected.”

Ron hadn’t known that. It didn’t make sense to him, but he did his best to understand anyway. He asked, “Really? Do Acromantula not love at all?”

Ari answered, “We do, in our own way. But, as you probably realized last night, marriage for us is just… less of a big deal. It’s a stage in a relationship, not a goal, and one that comes faster for us than for humans. My mother always told me about how she didn’t truly fall in love with Mom until after they got married, and I always assumed that I would be the same. Are you… is it different, for humans?”

Ron assumed that she meant Aragog when she spoke of “Mom,” and “mother” was Aragog’s wife. 

He gathered his thoughts for a moment, then began, “Well, I can’t say if it’s true for everyone, obviously; there’s a whole lot of people out there with a lot of ideas about what love and marriage should be. Some make more sense than others, at least I think so. But for what  _ I’ve  _ always been taught, yeah, humans marry for love, or they should, anyway. Most people don’t do arranged marriages anymore, and the ones who do… aren’t the kind of people who you’d like very much. I never really thought about it that much, honestly, but if I was asked, I’d probably have said that if I got married, it would be after Hogwarts, to a woman I’d fallen for a long time before. Obviously, that’s not gonna happen now.”

“I mean, it could…” Ari said shyly, trailing off like she was scared to finish the thought.

Ron looked at her, confused once more. “Um, what?” he asked.

Taking a deep breath, Ari stammered out, “Acromantulaarepolygamous…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ron said, “slow down, I didn’t hear you.”

Ari gathered herself, seeming to remind herself of something, then said, “Acromantula are… accepting of polyamorous relationships, I think is the right term? Most of them, me included, are completely okay with being part of a three-way relationship, or even more…”

Ron stared for a long moment, watching Ari tap her cheek nervously as she waited for his reaction. Eventually, Ron coughed and said, “Um, excuse me, did you just say what I think you said? You...you’d be okay with me going off and, um, shagging other girls?”

“I mean, as long as I got a turn with them too, and they were okay with sharing you, yeah,” Ari admitted, “even if I wasn’t already okay with that, it’s not like I have a right to claim you when we got together the way we did.”

Ron tried to clear his head of the image of Ari with another woman, waiting for him. He said, “I-I don’t know about that…”

“Don’t worry about it right now,” Ari told him, “it’s a thought for the future, anyway. We need to figure out who  _ we  _ are before that, Ron.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ron agreed, focusing back on the woman in front of him.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ari said after a brief pause, bringing her hand up almost instinctively to cover his, interlacing her pale, slightly cold fingers with his. Ron hadn’t realized how slender her fingers were; they seemed delicate, vulnerable. How had he been afraid of her, back in the forest, when her hand was so  _ gentle? _

Ari’s pure, deep-black eyes, all of them, seemed to pierce right through him as she asked, “Do you love me, Ron? Right now, with what I did to you?”

Ron...wasn’t sure how to answer that. It wasn’t every day that he got asked by naked women if he loved them, after all. But he supposed that, if honesty was the order of the day, then Ari would appreciate building their future on a foundation that would hold true.

“No,” he replied. Ari began to wilt, although her eyes suggested that she’d been expecting that answer.

But Ron wasn’t done. “No,” he repeated,  _ “not yet.” _

Ari froze, looking back up at him, her mouth open a little as Ron spoke. He continued, “Ari, I’ve only known you for a few hours, even though it feels like longer. Love...it doesn’t happen that fast. But… I know you better and better the more we talk, and I want you to know that I  _ could  _ love you. I think I  _ will,  _ if we keep going like this. I can’t say for sure, obviously, but I can feel it creeping up in my chest, when I look at you. I can’t say it yet, because I want to be honest. But someday, I’m pretty sure I will.”

Ari had tear tracks down her cheeks; Ron hadn’t known that Acromantula could cry. 

She replied, “T-thank you, Ron, for the truth. That’s...more than I deserve, I think. And, for what it’s worth, I feel the same. I don’t love you yet, but then, I didn’t expect to. And the parts of you I liked enough to ask Mom to bind us together back in that clearing… I can see where they’ll lead me to love you.” 

Ron’s throat was dry. Part of him, the part used to being the spare of the spares, the unnecessary one, the part that didn’t really expect much from the world but got disappointed sometimes anyway, felt as though it was curling up in the corner; never quite gone, but forgotten, a relic of the past. He couldn’t help but put his arms around Ari; she snuggled closer to him in the golden morning light. “Thank you,” he whispered to her.

She smiled. “Can I kiss you?” Ari asked gently.

Ron nodded wordlessly, and he watched, frozen, as Ari leaned in close and put her lips on his. They were warmer than he expected; he could feel slight divots where her fangs were, behind her lips. For a moment, Ron thought that all was right with the world. 

Then, everything went wrong, when one Seamus Finnigan yanked open the curtains of Ron’s bed to see Ron making out with a spider girl.

*****

“Hey, Ron! You have to get up!” Seamus shouted, yanking the poster open. He immediately saw Ari, who defensively shifted into her acromantula form, which caused Ron’s eyes to widen, and he let go of her. Seamus let out a shrill shriek, and drew his wand. “RON! MOV-” he was cut off when Ariana shifted back into her human form, and clung to Ron protectively. “What… what the fuck?” he stammered.

Fred and George burst in, wands raised. “Brother?! Are you alright!?” the two exclaimed, worried looks on their faces. They then saw him and the girl. “Uhhh… what?”

Ron let out an annoyed sigh. “This is going to take some explanation…”

*****

Harry listened as Ron explained how Ari, now wearing one of Ron’s t-shirts, came to be.

“So… you stood up to an Acromantula Queen,” Fred said aloud.

“Yep.”

“And you convinced her to spare you and Harry,” George continued.

“Uh huh.”

“And one of her daughters convinced this… Aragog… to marry her to you, and you didn’t know that until it was already done.” Seamus added.

“That’s right.”

“And she has three forms- full acromantula, a centaur but with a spider body, and mostly-human, the latter what she’s in now,” Dean repeated, scratching his head at how  _ weird  _ wizards were.

“That’s right!” Ari exclaimed, hugging Ron.

“And, this was all by accident?” Nevile inquired.

“Yep,” Ron admitted.

“Well then, there’s only one thing to do,” Fred decided.

“Indeed, brother,” George added. The two fourth years immediately bowed to Ron.

“All hail Ronald Billious Weasley, god of sex,” they chorused.

Ari giggled, but stumbled a little, before using Ron to stabilize herself. “Does that mean you can give me children now?” she asked. Fred and George began to burst out laughing.

Ron’s face turned as red as his hair. “N-no! Not yet! W-we can start trying for children next school year, if you want…” he told her.

“Awww… I wanna lay eggs soon…” she moped. “Acromantulas like feeling heavy with eggs…”

“Humans don’t lay eggs, dear sister-in-law,” George told Ari.

“Indeed. Unborn children are held in the womb for nine months, growing until they’re born. We have pictures, if you’d like,” Fred mentioned. George slapped him.

“I’d like that,” Ari said, confused at how humans reproduced.

Fred sprinted out of the dormitory and soon came back with a book. Ari grabbed it. Within five minutes, she was panting heavily, and had an aroused smile. “Yeeessss…” she moaned, before handing the book back to Fred, who returned it. George was holding his head.

“Brother, did you have to show her that?” he groaned.

“Why Brother, I did! She needs to know what to expect!” Fred responded.

“Judging by her looks, Ronnikins is going to lose his virginity this summer, don’tcha reckon?” George asked.

Fred nodded. “We may become uncles by the end of our fifth year,” he said sagely. Ron was just babbling nonsense, while the rest of the boys, including Harry, were rolling on the floor with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated discord server link: https://discord.gg/tn48dE


	6. Chapter 6

After the gigglefest at Ron’s expense, the group decided to head down for breakfast. However, a problem was apparent: Ron had no female underwear or clothing for Ari.

“I could just be a drider?” she suggested, shapeshifting into her drider form. While her shirt now gave her private parts cover, she was now too wide to fit through the door. She then poofed back into her humanoid form. “Or… not…”

Nevile quickly ran out to the common room. A few minutes passed, before he came back, carrying a load of girl’s clothing. “I got one of the girls to grab some of Hermione’s clothes. Hopefully they’ll fit,” he told everyone. Ari grabbed them, and put them on. Sure enough, they fit… mostly.

“Hmm… I think I’ll have to make some new clothes tonight,” she mused. “Ron, if you see me in Drider form, please don’t freak out,” she told him. Ron nodded. “And now, breakfast awaits!” she declared, marching out to the common room. The group followed her, where she was dropping her head. “I don’t know where the food is served,” she admitted.

Ron smiled softly. “Come on, just follow us,” he instructed, leading the group out of the Gryffindor common room.

*****

Like the previous night, Ari was fascinated by the school, before she began sniffing. Her nose crinkled, and she gained a disgusted look. “What is that smell!?” she complained, to the confusion of the group. They then arrived at the Great Hall, where the Slytherins only had to take one look at Ari, before they burst out laughing.

“Trying to defile your blood even more, Weasley?!” Pansy shrieked.

Draco was chortling. “You got over your fear of spiders, so now you’re fucking one?!” he called out.

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were murmuring to each other over this recent development. Snape was watching the events closely. McGonagall was in shock. Ari, however, had something else on her mind.

“How are you all alive!?” she screamed, pointing at the Slytherins. “Your body smells like rotting meat!” she exclaimed. She sniffed again. “And you smell like rotting blood as well! Are you all poisoned?!” The Slytherins looked incredibly offended.

“They inbreed, Ari,” Ron whispered to his new spider wife. Ariana’s eyes widened in horror.

“That’s awful!” she exclaimed. “Their family size is going to be small, if not nonexistent! They won’t be able to marry!”

“How dare you, you filthy animal!” Draco howled. “My blood is superior to yours!” Before the argument could escalate into another food fight, Harry nudged Ron.

“We need to ask her about what she knows,” he reminded his best friend. Ron nodded.

“Hey, Ari… what do you know about the monster of Slytherin?? Do you know what it is?”

Ari fidgeted. “I’m sorry, Ron… I know what it is… but I can’t say it’s name… it’s just too scary…” she admitted. “Mom told me that the only fatality was a girl who was found in a bathroom…”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Ron… what if that girl is still there!?” he whispered.

Ron got the idea. “You don’t think… Myrtle?!”

Ari cocked her head. “Mom said that was her name, actually,” she helpfully added. Harry and Ron simultaneously slammed their heads into the table.

“To think we could’ve just… asked her…” Ron groaned. “Now we have to get there again…”

“How? The teachers will catch us…” Harry muttered.

Ari moped. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful…”

Ron gave her a gentle hug. “Hey, it’s alright. You tried your best,” he explained, his caringness becoming more and more genuine the longer he held her. Then, McGonagall walked over. “Uhh… good morning, professor…” Ron murmured.

Ariana looked at the Transfiguration professor with a confused expression. “Why do you smell like a cat?”

“That does not concern you, Ms-”

“Mrs. Weasley, actually! Ron’s my husband!” she exclaimed. Harry stifled a chuckle at Ron’s horrified expression.

“Oh? Because when I escorted the second years back to the dormitory, he was not married, nor were you in the castle. Care to explain, Mr. Weasley?”

Fred and George were watching. Fred mouthed ‘I’ll miss you,’ to him. After a minute, Ron opened his mouth.

“Last night, Harry and I encountered Aragog, who threatened to kill us. I did some bluffing, and she was so impressed she married me off to Ariana, her 127th daughter,” Ron explained, his voice completely flat. Harry gained a shocked expression. McGonagall also had a shocked expression, before she smiled.

“It must’ve been quite frightening for her to appear in your dormitory, Mr. Weasley,” she said dryly. “I’m impressed you kept your nerve and didn’t wake up anyone besides Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor.” With that, she strode up to the Staff Table, leaving the Gryffindors gobsmacked. She turned around and mouthed ‘Your bullshitting skills are impressive, Mr. Weasley.’

Ron slowly pulled his jaw off of the table. “Did she… did she just…”

“I think she did…” Harry got out.

“Just when I thought she couldn’t get even cooler…”

*****

Of course, this awe died when McGonagall announced that, in spite of all of the attacks, exams would still be going on.

“Are you serious!?” Seamus exclaimed. “We still have EXAMS!?”

“Well, you’re still in school. Therefore, per Professor Lockhart’s insistence that the school function as normally as possible, you will still have to take exams. The only students who are exempt from them are those who have been petrified,” the Deputy Headmistress explained. Harry was concerned, since exams had been the last thing on his mind. Ron, however, looked distraught.

“My wand… I can’t imagine what exams would be like with it… it served me well last year… but in its state…” he trailed off, pointing to the smouldering tip. Ari winced in sympathy, and gave him a hug. Ron’s teenage mind promptly decided the warm breasts pressing against him were more important.

*****

Three days before their first exams, McGonagall made an announcement during breakfast. Ari was, now that she had become used to the Slytherin’s stech, actually eating.

“I have wonderful news to announce! Professor Sprout has told me that the mandrakes are ready to be made into potions! Tonight, the students and the ghost who have been petrified will be able to awaken, and may be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them!”

This speech led to furious mumblings. The Slytherins looked depressed, but the other three houses were excited.

“So Hermione can tell us what she knows now!” Ron exclaimed. “That means that we might not even need to see Myrtle at all!” As they were celebrating, none of them noticed Ginny suddenly stand up, and run out of the Great Hall.

*****

Harry and Ron decided that it would be a good idea to see Myrtle anyways, if they got the chance. As it turned out, the chance came when Lockhart was leading them to History of Magic.

“I don’t know what attacked them, but I’m certain that it wasn’t Hagrid. I’m positive that once his innocence is secured, he’ll be issued a full apology!” he exclaimed. “Well, I daresay that you can reach your class without me, and I must be going to prepare for my next class!” With that, he sprinted off.

“Most likely he’s going to curl his hair,” Ron snarked, before his eyes widened. “Let’s go see Myrtle!” he whispered. Harry and Ari nodded, and they went that way. However, almost immediately, they were caught by McGonagall.

“Potter! Weasley! Explain yourselves!” she demanded, her mouth so thin that Harry wasn’t sure if individual air molecules could pass.

“We… we were… we were, ummm…” Harry began, not sure what to say.

Ron, however, proved to be capable of speaking coherently. “We were going to visit Hermione,” he told her. “We haven’t seen her in a while, and I wanted to introduce Ariana to her…” he told her.

McGonagall was silent for a full twenty seconds, before she sniffed, like she was trying to hold back tears. Her voice came out incredibly croaky. “O- of course,” she stammered. “I- I can’t imagine how hard this is for you… I’ll inform Professor Binns where you have gone, and tell Madam Pomfrey that you have my permission,” she told them, walking towards the History of Magic classroom.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, and decided to go to the Hospital Wing. After their teacher’s near-breakdown, it would just be wrong to not do that. Of course, Madam Pomfrey was reluctant. “I’m sorry, but there’s no real point in talking to a petrified person…” she admitted. Harry, Ron, and Ari still visited.

“I like her ears and tail,” Ari said, rubbing her hand across the frozen fuzziness. Harry wasn’t paying attention to the spider girl. Instead, he noticed a slip of paper clenched in between Hermione’s fingers. Due to the fact it was like she was made of stone, it took some time. He also had to be careful to not tear it. It took a while, but he eventually got it out.

“Ron, look,” He told his friend. The three then looked at the parchment. From the looks of it, Hermione has copied something from a library book, probably with a spell. Harry then read the passage aloud.

“Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken’s egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy,” he said, before looking at the bottom of the page. In Hermione’s handwriting, there was the word ‘pipes’, in all capitals and underlined as well.

It was like a light switch had been flicked. “Ari, is the monster a basilisk?” he asked her. The spider girl nodded fearfully.

“That explains everything! I’ve been hearing it because it’s a snake, and I can speak parseltongue!” Harry exclaimed.

“But how has no one died? Or how has it been getting around?!” Ron exclaimed.

“Hermione figured it out! It’s using the plumbing! That’s why I’ve been hearing it in the walls! And how no one has died… no one’s looked into its eyes directly! Well, except for Nick, but you can’t die twice! Mrs. Noris must’ve seen it’s reflection, Justin had to have seen it through Nick, Colin saw it through his camera, and Hermione and Penelope were holding a mirror! Hermione must’ve told the first person she saw about it, and Clearwater pulled out her mirror and they saw it!”

“Plumbing… what if… what if the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in Myrtle’s bathroom?” Ron asked. Harry smacked his head.

“Of course! Come on, we have to tell Professor McGonagall!” Harry exclaimed, the three rushing towards the staff office. They soon arrived, but when they entered, McGonagall’s magically amplified voice rang out.

_ “All students are to return to their dormitories immediately! All teachers are to report to the staff room at once!” _

Before Harry or Ron could do anything, Ari quickly removed her pants and underwear that she had made. Before the two could ask her to put them back on, she shifted into her drider form. Unfortunately, her upper clothing didn’t survive, so Ron found himself in between her breasts. She then grabbed Harry and Ron, and scurried to the ceiling.

“What are you doing!?” Harry whispered.

“No one ever looks up,” she replied. Before any of the three could say anything else, the teachers, led by McGonagall, stormed in. Once they were inside, she turned to the teachers.

“It’s happened. A student has been taken by the monster into the chamber of secrets itself! The heir of Slytherin has left another message, right below the first: ‘Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever’,”

All of the teachers gained horrified expressions. “Who?” Snape snarled. Harry was pretty sure the man looked like he’d wish to take on the basilisk himself.

“Ginny Weasley,” McGonagall confirmed. Ron went limp in Ari’s hand. “We have no choice but to send the students home tomorrow. It’s for their own safety. Each head will have to inform their houses.” Before she could continue, Lockhart waltzed in.

“Sorry, I dozed off. What did I miss?” he asked, beaming his usual smile. The teachers were staring at him with clear contempt and loathing. Snape stepped forward.

“Ah, Professor Lockhart. It seems your moment has come at last. A girl has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets.”

“M-my moment?” he stuttered.

“Yes. After all, your skills are legendary. I daresay that you’ve figured out where the chamber is, and what’s inside. We’ll leave the monster in your capable hands,” Professor Sprout told him.

Lockhart paled to an almost ghostly white, before he recovered. “V-very well… I’ll just… be getting ready,” he told them, running off to his office.

“Well, that’s gotten rid of him. Now, we need to go alert the students,” McGonagall instructed. One after the other, the teachers left the room. When they were all gone, Ari scurried onto the floor, where she changed back into her humanoid form. 

“I’ll have to sew new clothes,” she admitted, putting her pants back on. “I’ll head back to the dormitory. Are you two going to talk to Lockhart?”

Harry and Ron nodded. “He may be useless, but we should tell him what we know,” he told Ron’s wife. Ariana nodded, and sprinted towards the Gryffindor tower. Harry and Ron took off towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. When they entered, however, they came to a shocking sight. Instead of preparing, the Professor was hurriedly packing his bags!

“Professor?” Harry inquired. Lockhart looked up in alarm.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley…” he said awkwardly.

“Are you going somewhere?” Ron rhetorically asked.

“Well yes… urgent call, unavoidable…”

“What about my sister!?”

“Well, it’s unfortunate… no one regrets is more then I-”

“You’re running away!? After all the things you did in your books!?” Harry exclaimed.

“Books can be misleading!”

“You wrote them!”

“Use your common sense, boy! Those books wouldn't sell half as well if people didn’t think I did those things-” Lockhart ranted, before he paused. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You’re a fraud. All you’re doing is taking credit for things others have done,” Harry accused, before he got thoughtful. “How are you not buried in lawsuits!?”

“Simple. I track the people who did it down, pose as a reporter, get the details, and modify their memories. I’m very good at memory charms. And I’m sorry, but I can’t have you blabbing,” he added, raising his wand.

Before he could do anything, Harry waved his own wand. “Expelliarmus!” he shouted, Disarming the fraud. He and Ron then pointed their wands at Lockhart. “Now then, you’re coming with us,” he growled, leading the man to Myrtle’s bathroom.

*****

The three arrived after a tense walk. When they arrived, Myrthel was sitting on a toilet.

“Well hello there. What do you three want?” she asked.

“We need to know how you died,” Harry explained.

“That’s not something anyone has ever asked before…” Myrtle said aloud. “Well, Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses and blood status- I’m muggleborn- and I was in a stall, crying. Then, I heard the door open. Someone walked in, and it sounded like they were speaking some sort of made-up language. What was really interesting was that it was a boy speaking. So, I got out to scold him for being in a girl’s bathroom, and then I was suddenly staring into a pair of great, big, bulbous, yellow eyes by the sink. After that, I was just floating away… until I came back to haunt Olive. That was so cathartic!”

Harry walked over to the sink, and began to feel around it. On one of the sinks, he saw a barely noticeable etching of a snake. “This is it,” he said aloud. “Now, how do we get it to open?” Harry inquired, before Ron snapped his fingers.

“The Heir fifty years ago must’ve used Parseltongue! Harry, say ‘Open’ in Parseltongue!” Ron instructed.

Harry stared at the snake carving. “ _ Open _ ,” he said to it. This time, however, he noticed that his voice was a hiss. With that hiss, there was a rumbling. One by one, the sinks fell down, revealing a gaping hole in the ground. 

“Welp, I’ll leave you two to it-” Lockhart began, before Harry and Ron forced him to the hole.

“You first. We have to see if it’s safe,” Ron growled, pushing him down. There were rather girly screams for about thirty seconds.

“Dear Merlin it’s filthy down here!” Lockhart shouted. Harry and Ron shrugged, and jumped down.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Le Discord: https://discord.gg/MEGP4gS

The trip down the pipe was, in a word, exhilarating. Harry could faintly see smaller pipes branching off as they slid. From the timeline, it was likely that they were further down then the dungeons. Faintly, he could hear Ron following after him. Finally, after about three minutes of fun, he ended up sliding down onto a flat surface, skidding for about thirty feet. He quickly got up, noticing Lockhart hurriedly trying to clean his robes. Harry moved, and Ron skidded out as well.

“We must be miles under the school,” Harry said to his friend.

“Judging by the slime, I’d say the lake, to be exact,” Ron mused. “Also, if it weren’t for the fact that a basilisk could be waiting at the end that would be a fun slide.” Harry just gave him a look. “What?”

“Lumos!” Harry shouted, lighting the tip of his wand. Ron did the same, grateful that his wand didn’t explode. “Now, if you see anything moving, close your eyes immediately,” Harry instructed.

“Harry… if we run into the basilisk… how are we going to fight it?” Ron inquired. In response, Harry pulled out a piece of parchment.

“I’m going to use that latin chant. I don’t know what it does, but it’s our best shot,” he explained. Before they could get any further, Lockhart pointed and babbled incoherently. Harry brought his wand up, and saw something nearby.

“Is it asleep?” Ron inquired. Harry tiptoes over to what they thought was the basilisk, only to see that it wasn’t the magical snake, just its shed skin. “Blimey! It would have to be at least sixty feet long to shed that!” Ron gasped. At that Lockhart collapsed in a heap, passing out from fear. “Get up!” Ron snarled, kicking the fraud of a teacher. Lockhart did get up, but not in the way Harry or Ron would’ve wanted. He dove at Ron like a man possessed. Harry rushed in to try to save his friend, but he was too late. Lockhart had stolen Ron’s wand, and was now pointing it at the two boys.

“The journey ends here, boys!” he growled. “But don’t fret, the world will know our story! They’ll know that, in spite of our best efforts, I was too late to save the girl, and you two lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body!” he laughed.

Harry looked at Ron, and mouthed ‘Any idea how this is going to backfire on him?’

Ron mouthed back, ‘He’ll probably forget everything, up to and including who he is’.

Lockhart ended his laughter, and pointed Ron’s wand at the two again. “Say goodbye to your memories! OBLIVIATE!”

*****

It was known among those who studied wand lore that the wand chose the wizard. What was known only to a few was that wands were fully sentient, in their own way. What was known only to the greatest wandcrafters, however, was that the spirits of wands could reach out to Magic itself should the need arise. And here, Ron’s wand found that need.

“My lady, I have a request,” the spirit asked.

“SPEAK,” Magic replied.

“Change the world. Flow through me, and alter what is, and make it what could have been,” Ron’s wand begged.

“YOU KNOW THE COST OF SUCH A REQUEST. ARE YOU WILLING TO PAY IT?”

“For my master, and his friend? Yes.”

“THEN SO BE IT.”

*****

For a second, there was nothing. And then, before all of their eyes, Ron’s wand disintegrated to ash.

“What the-” Lockhart began, before a blinding explosion of pure white flung Lockhart into a wall. The blast brought down a large amount of rock as well, separating Harry and Ron.

“RON!” Harry shouted.

“I’m alright!” Ron shouted back. “Lockhart’s knocked out, and my wand is gone! It’ll take ages to dig through this rubble!”

Harry thought for a moment, before he made up his mind. “I’ll go on ahead. I still have the chant. If I’m not back in an hour…” he trailed off, not needing to finish that sentence.

“I’ll try to move the rock so that when you get back you can squeeze through,” Ron replied.

Harry nodded, and said “I’ll see you in a bit, Ron,” before walking down the corridor. After maybe two minutes of walking, he found himself staring at what could easily have been an entrance to a fallout shelter or a bank vault, were it not for the snakes carved upon the door. Harry knew what he had to do.

 _“Open,”_ he commanded, his voice coming out as a hiss. A metal snake slithered along the outside of the door, and the massive vault opened, creaking loudly. Harry steeled himself, and stepped into the chamber.

******

Ron stared at the caved-in tunnel in helpless anger. Harry was down there, and there was nothing Ron could do. He couldn’t help his sister, or his friend. He didn’t even have a wand anymore. He’d never felt more useless. Everything he’d done, with Hermione and Harry and even Ari, had earned him the right to stare at a pile of rubble with an unconscious liar behind him, while his friends and family were in danger.

Suddenly, Ron heard a groan from behind him. _“Great,”_ he thought, _“this fucker’s awake again.”_

Lockhart pulled himself into an upright position, rubbing his head. “Damn,” he said, “whatever that was got me good.”

The first thing Ron noticed was that Lockhart’s voice was different. Where his voice had always been a slightly off-sounding falsetto, the voice of a showman trying to convince an audience more than an adventurer, it was now rough, gritty, without the simpering refinement of his old voice, and a few octaves lower. This was the voice of a man who had little time for fancy words.  
Then, Ron spotted the differences in the man’s appearance as he stood up. Instead of the elaborate coiffed hairdo full of more artificial ingredients than Muggle candy, Lockhart’s hair was now close-cropped, sticking up in a way that suggested he rarely combed it, streaked with more gray and tan hairs than he had had before. He was a few inches taller, visibly buffer and more powerfully built, and he moved with the grace of a trained fighter. This was a completely different man to the pathetic coward Ron and Harry had dragged into this mad plan.

And then there were the _scars._ On his head and neck, crisscrossing his forearms where they poked out from the sleeves of his-were those _dueling robes?_ -and on his face. _Oh, Merlin, on his face._ Lockhart’s perfect smile was now covered with scars and marks, from thin white lines that looked like shrapnel marks pockmarking his left cheek and ear, to the Lichtenberg figure creeping up the side of his neck, to the massive claw-shaped scars that started at his forehead and went down the whole front of his face, crossing the bridge of his nose. His eyes were haunted, calculating, constantly moving. They were the eyes of a man used to fighting for his life with zero warning.

Where the old Lockhart had been a stupid, cowardly liar, this man was undeniably a fighter, one who radiated a quiet, steady air of confidence, but not arrogance. Suddenly, this strange not-Lockhart’s eyes fell on Ron. Gruffly, he asked, “Hey, kid. Any idea how we ended up here?”

Still not quite believing his eyes, Ron replied, “We were going to fight a basilisk, and you tried to Obliviate us with a broken wand.”

Lockhart winced, a confused expression on his face. He began, “A basilisk, eh? Now that’s something you don’t see every day. And why would I try to Obliviate you?”

“Um, because you’re a liar who stole all your stories and didn’t want us to tell everyone?” Ron told him.

Lockhart didn’t even seem to understand what he was saying. “Stories?” he asked, “what stories? Kid, I’m in the stories, I don’t write them.”

 _“What the actual fuck is going on?”_ Ron wondered, _“did that blast somehow rewrite his brain?”_

“Look, man, I have no idea what you think you’re doing, but my friend is fighting the basilisk right now, and we really need to find a way to get through this cave-in and help him,” Ron tried, hoping that this weird Lockhart would actually help him.

To Ron’s shock, Lockhart immediately nodded and strode over to the caved-in area. Without a wand, he examined the rockfall, looking for...something. Eventually, he stood back and shook his head.

“No can do, kid,” he told Ron, “it’s not stable. One blast from a wand, or even just a good shove, could bring this entire tunnel down on our heads.”

Ron didn’t know how Lockhart knew that, but he asked, “Are you sure? Can’t we just...I don’t know, magic our way through?”

Lockhart shook his head again. “It’s the first rule of cave-ins, kid. Never mess with anything unless you are _completely, absolutely, one hundred percent_ sure that it won’t make things worse,” he replied.

Ron snapped, “Oh, and I assume you know that from one of the stories you stole?”

Lockhart looked at him curiously. “I didn’t steal anything, kid,” he said, “heck, I didn’t want a lot of the stuff I did to get published. Felt like it cheapened it, you know? I don’t protect people for fame.”

Still incredibly confused, Ron replied, “Oh, so that demon you fought in Transylvania or wherever was totally real!”

“It wasn’t a demon,” Lockhart corrected, “it was a fire spirit. And does this look fake to you?” He pulled up his sleeve to show an angry red burn scar that covered most of his shoulder. It was in the unmistakable shape of a handprint, a place where Lockhart had been grabbed by a being made of flame.  
Ron couldn’t argue against that scar, which he knew hadn’t been there when they walked into this tunnel. _“Did the blast from my wand rewrite reality itself or something?” he thought hysterically._

It was the only thing that made any sense at all. Somehow, his wand had channeled enough power to completely change Lockhart’s life, turning him from a thief and liar into the man who had actually done the things his old self had pretended to do. It had been destroyed in the process, sure, but still. Well, they still couldn’t get to Harry, and it wasn’t like Ron wasn’t used to rolling with wacky bullshit. The spider wife waiting for him in his room was proof enough of that.  
Ron sat down against a pile of rocks to wait; Lockhart did the same.

“So, tell me about these stories,” Ron began.

“What do you want to know?” Lockhart asked.

 _“What the fuck my life is anymore,”_ Ron thought, _“but I don’t think I’m ever going to get that answer.”_

Instead, he said, “Why don’t you tell me about the fire spirit?”

Lockhart nodded, and began to speak.

*****

The chamber was truly massive, as long as a football field. To the side, large snake columns dotted the water-filled lower parts. And, at the end of the chamber, Harry caught the sight of flaming red hair, attracted to an unconscious, black-robed figure.

“Ginny!” he cried out, rushing towards her. As he did, he kept a firm grip on his wand. He’d need that if the basilisk came. He sprinted towards her, almost slipping once or twice. When he came to her prone form, he kneeled down besides her. He felt her hand, and gasped at how cold it was. He turned her over, and saw that her eyes were closed.

“Not petrified, then…” he muttered to himself, feeling for a pulse. There was one, but it was very faint. She was also barely breathing. “Come on Ginny, please wake up… we have to go!” he urgently whispered.

“She won’t wake,” a male voice rang out from the darkness. Harry knew that voice. He gasped- partially from the shock of hearing it, and partially from the spike of sheer, world-consuming loathing that went through his skull… it was like something inside of him wanted him gone…

“Tom… Tom Riddle?! H-how?!” Harry stammered, wincing as the loathing continued. Then he realized what he said. “You mean… she’s dead!?”

“No… she’s alive… but only just… Death is sure to claim her shortly,” he informed Harry.

“How… how are you even here?! Are you a ghost?”

“No. I am a memory. I was preserved in a diary for the past fifty years,” Riddle explained. Harry looked, and sure enough, Tom’s diary was there. He idly wondered how and why it was there, but he didn’t have time to think about it.

“Tom, do you think you could lend me a hand? We have to get out of here right now! THE basilisk could show up at any moment-”

“It won’t come until it is called,” Tom coldy stated.

“Well then, let’s not see if having three humans is ‘calling’ it! Help me already!” Harry snapped, that loathing getting deeper and deeper.

“No, I shall not. You see, I’ve wanted to have a chat with you, Harry Potter. And now, here we are, face-to-face.”

“Can we talk later?!” Harry growled, now having to fight the urge to punch Tom in the face… or, for some reason, call him a murderer.

“No, we’re going to talk right here, and right now!” Tom shouted, a twisted smile on his face.

“Fine,” Harry spat. “First of all, what the FUCK happened to Ginny!?”

“Oh, her? Well, it’s quite simple. She poured out her soul to an invisible stranger- me. She did this because she found my diary. The little fool has been writing in it for months upon months… talking about how much she felt nervous, how she wished that the great Harry Potter loved her… she talked about getting teased by her brothers… so much tiny, boring information. However, it served my purpose. I pretended to care. I acted patient, kind, and caring. Poor Ginny simply loved me, and saw me as a trusted friend… how silly.”

“You’re a monster…” Harry growled.

“Oh? You’re calling me that already? Why, I haven’t gotten to the best parts yet!” Riddle cackled- it was a cold, cruel laugh. “As she poured out her soul to me, I was able to pour out mine to hers! I soon gained enough power to possess her! I used her to continue what I started fifty years ago, and opened the chamber again!”

“It was you…” Harry snarled. “You opened the chamber. You framed Hagrid-” Harry’s voice then hitched. “And YOU killed Myrtle!” he shouted, feeling more rage than he thought he should’ve.

“Well, I couldn’t have opened the chamber without Ginny’s help. I had to use her to open the chamber, order the basilisk, and write those lovely notes on the wall. Eventually, however, she realized I was controlling her, and tried to dispose of my diary. And then, who should find it, but you? You see, my goal hasn’t been to kill mudbloods since the beginning of the year. Since then, you have been my target,” he explained.

“Me? Why me?”

“Well, it’s quite simple: You’ve defeated me several times.”

And then, the pieces clicked. “You’re… you’re Voldemort… you’re the heir of Slytherin…” Harry gasped.

“I am Lord Voldemort is an anagram of my full name, Tom Marvolo Riddle,” The teenage Voldemort explained, evilly laughing. Now Harry could place the laughter- it was the same laughter Voldemort had when he was fused with Quirrell. “I wouldn’t keep using my filthy Muggle father’s name! No, I needed a new name! But enough chatter! This time, you will die… and then, once Ginny’s soul is absorbed entirely, I will be able to walk the Earth again, as Lord Voldemort!” He then turned towards the statue of Salazar’s head at the end of the chamber (How Harry hadn’t noticed this was beyond him) and spoke in Parseltongue, _“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!”_ The mouth slowly opened, as if the statue was yawning. Considering magical paintings, Harry idly wondered if some statues could yawn. And then, he saw it. The basilisk.

 _“KILL HIM!”_ Tom howled.

 _“Don’t wanna… but have to… sorry...”_ The basilisk moped, turning towards Harry.

Harry immediately turned his eyes down to the parchment he was carrying, and raised his wand.

“Your wand won’t save you, Potter! You don’t know anything that can penetrate the basilisk’s scales!”

“I know this!” Harry retorted, clearing his throat. “Audi obedientes Per potentiam MAGIA:-”

“NO!” Riddle roared, firing off a burst of magic. However, a blue shield protected Harry. The basilisk was also entrapped. 

“Adiuro te ad voluntatem meam!” Harry continued, nervous. The basilisk was beginning to shudder from the corner of his eye.

“YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY SLAVE, POTTER!” Riddle roared, leaping at the barrier. He just bounced off. 

“Forma accipiatur gratissimum oculis Mihine servietis et quod reliquum est annorum, cum servo meo, et dilectus meus in sempiternum!” Harry finished. As he did, a massive pulse of black light mixed with pink erupted from his wand, obscuring everything.

“POTTER!” Riddle howled in sheer fury. “YOU BASTARD!” His rage was palpable, shaking the entire chamber. Harry only slightly heard this. Instead, he was hearing the shrieking of the basilisk… but it was getting weaker, and softer. Now, it almost sounded like...a woman? What had the chant done!?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Le discord: https://discord.gg/JKbqQ7w

_ 990 AD, shortly after the founding of Hogwarts. _

Bella enjoyed finding quiet spots along the castle walkways or on the grounds to sun herself. It let her curl up in a nice warm spot and sleep, her chin resting on the tip of her tail, coiled around her torso like her own personal blanket. She thought it made her look cool, like a big, grown-up basilisk. Her parents always told her that it made her look cute.

She wasn’t  _ cute!  _ She was a  _ basilisk!  _ The Queen of Serpents! She could kill with her eyes!

Or she could in her snake form, anyway. But right now, she was in her usual form, something her Papa called a... _ Lamia?  _ Something like that, at least. But yeah, right now, Bella couldn’t hurt a fly. Well, she  _ could,  _ if she could catch the stupid flies. They were too fast! Bella flicked her tail to get rid of some of those flies, which were buzzing around her head while she was trying to nap in her favorite spot, a patch of warm rocks near the lake. She grumbled as she resettled herself, trying to warm up again.

Then, she heard a voice call out, “Bella! There you are!” Instantly, she perked up again, because she  _ knew  _ that voice.

“Papa!” she yelled, uncoiling and eagerly racing over to where a thin middle-aged man in long, green-and-silver robes was waving to her. Salazar Slytherin wrapped his arms around Bella as she hugged him tightly, the air escaping his lungs with a whoosh.“You’re home!” she cheered, “did you have fun?”

He replied, “I sure did, sweetie! Were you well-behaved while I was away?”

She nodded furiously. “Yes, I was! I only tried to eat Helga’s hamster once!” she whispered, as though confiding a big secret.

Salazar chuckled affectionately, kneeling down to look her in the eye as he reminded her, “You know you’re not supposed to do that, Bella.”

“I know…” she muttered, “but it just looks so  _ tasty…” _

“Speaking of tasty,” another, gruffer voice interrupted, “what am I, chopped haggis?”

Bella looked past Salazar, to where another man stood. Taller, with a barrel chest and tangled beard as red as his kilt, as well as a massive longsword in a sheathe slung casually across his back, the man seemed to be the polar opposite of the thin, aristocratic-looking Salazar in every way.

“Dad!” Bella cried, shooting past Salazar and eagerly wrapping herself around Godric Gryffindor as well, as he chuckled deeply and patted her head affectionately, fingers slipping through her long, silky red hair.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said in his deep baritone, “is Sally telling you not to get into trouble again?” Bella nodded, her cheeks turning red. Godric laughed, “Well, why are you listening to him? He’s the biggest troublemaker of them all!”

“Oi,” Salazar replied, “what are you talking about? And when are you going to stop calling me  _ Sally?” _

“When it stops being funny,” Godric told his best friend.

“With  _ your  _ sense of humor, that means never,” Salazar grumbled, to which Godric and Bella both laughed in agreement.

Then, Bella asked, “What trouble did Papa get into this time?”

“See?” Salazar teased, “I get to be “ _ Papa.”  _ That means she likes me more.”

Godric shook his head. “Nah, it just means that  _ you’re  _ the one who adopted her first,” he replied, “and Bella, you shoulda seen him! He tried to walk towards these raiders like a real cool wizard, cape blowing, eyes glowing, the works, and he...he  _ tripped on his own feet!  _ Woulda fallen flat on his face, if your  _ favorite  _ Da hadn’t hauled him up just in time to save his sorry ar-“

His face bright red with embarrassment, Salazar still managed to cough meaningfully just in time to save Bella’s innocent ears, making Godric shut his mouth.

In a dignified tone, the most cunning wizard in Britain said, “Just because my use of intimidation tactics was unsuccessful  _ this  _ time, doesn’t mean that you should knock their effectiveness, Godric.”

Bending down to let Bella slither off of his arm, Godric hooted, “Oh yeah, you looked  _ real  _ intimidatin’ there, Sally! Those Danes were about to drop dead...of  _ laughter!” _

“Call me “Sally” again, and I will curse your entire bloodline to have backwards kneecaps for the rest of time,” Salazar responded, a completely deadpan expression on his face.

“Weak!” Godric cracked, “a  _ real  _ curse from you would be more clever. Aren’t you supposed to be the sneaky one, not the angry one?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the brave one, and not the  _ loud  _ one?” Salazar retorted, a familiar grin on his face.

The two seemed like they were about to start trading friendly insults again, when Bella started tugging on their sleeves for attention. “What’s wrong, Bella?” they asked at the same time.

With huge eyes, Bella responded, “Papa, Dad, how long until I can come with you on your trips?”

Salazar and Godric exchanged glances of perfect understanding; Bella was not allowed  _ anywhere  _ near the battlefield. Ever. But neither one wanted to explain where they had been to a young basilisk lamia who would outlive them all, see things they would never be able to imagine.

Instead, Salazar knelt down and said, “It’s going to be a while, Bella. We want to make sure that you stay here, with the students, where it’s safe.”

Bella’s poison-green, serpentine eyes brightened instantly at the mention of the students. She  _ loved  _ them, because the students loved her, always showering her with pats and tasty morsels from the feast tables. But then, she hesitated, remembering something she’d heard two students discussing the day before.

“But…how do you  _ know  _ it’s safe here?” she wondered, her eyes huge and curious. Now, it was Godric’s turn to come to eye level with her. 

“Lass,” he said gently, “we are the greatest witches and wizards in these isles. We’ve put every spell we know on this castle, until we’re  _ sure  _ it’s safe. If this place isn’t, nowhere is.”

“But what if you aren’t here?” Bella asked, trembling, “what if the spells don’t work? Who will keep the students safe?”

Salazar and Godric exchanged a long look, a silent communication about an idea they’d known would have to be voiced sooner or later. At last, Salazar sat down next to Bella, his soft, deep eyes boring into the lamia he’d raised from birth, that had been his adopted daughter before Hogwarts had become her home, and her family. “Bella,” he began, his voice achingly gentle, “you know that basilisks like you can live for millennia, right?”

She nodded, then made a face. “Mill...ennia?” she asked, “what does that mean?”

“A really long time,” Godric offered, making Salazar shake his head affectionately before his expression sombered again.

“We won’t always be able to be around to keep the students safe,” he told Bella, “even if we’ll always be with you, one way or another. So, if we can’t...will you protect them?”

Bella nodded, determination shining in her eyes. “I will,” she promised, “I won’t let  _ anything  _ bad happen to them.”

“Thank you, Bella,” Salazar said honestly, “now, why don’t you go find Helga and Rowena? We’ll be along shortly.” Bella hugged them both again, then zipped off into the castle, her gleeful laughter echoing off the enchanted stonework. The two men listened to the echoes of her joy as long as they lasted, then turned back to each other.

“Well, that went…well,” Salazar began.

“Considering the fact that you just tried to tell the equivalent of a human five-year-old that we’re all going to die someday, I’m going to say that your definition of “going well” is different from mine,” Godric replied honestly.

Salazar shook his head. “I wish we didn’t have to put that on her so early,” he muttered.

“Me too,” Godric agreed, “but she’ll do fine. She loves the students, and the school, more than anyone else. It’s her home, and basilisks are known for defending the places they call home. The place will be in good hands, Sally.”

Salazar had been nodding along, only to groan as he heard his hated nickname yet again.

“I swear, let Helga trick you into taking a genderswap potion one time, and you’ll never live it down,” he grumbled, making Godric laugh.

The redheaded man replied, “To be fair, you did look  _ very  _ good in a dress.”

“I don’t think that’s a compliment, given your taste in women,” Salazar noted.

Godric retorted, “Hey, I’m a simple man with simple tastes. If a woman can beat me in a fight, then she’s my type.”

“Or if they’re a giantess,” Salazar said, recalling several  _ incidents  _ over the years.

Godric nodded. “Or if they’re a giantess,” he agreed, “Did I ever tell you about the time-“

“That you fucked three giantesses at once?” Salazar finished, “yes, you have. Too many times.”

“It’s a story worth telling,” Godric said, completely unashamed, “after all, it takes incredible bravery to bed a woman who could squish you with her thumb!”

“Oh, it takes incredible  _ something,  _ alright,” Salazar told his friend.

Godric shook his head as he clapped Salazar on the shoulder. “At least I didn’t invent a whole new magic language to seduce a hot lamia back when I was a wee lad just discovering the joys of the world,” he told the green-clad wizard.

Salazar spluttered, “Oi! Parseltongue is a unique and varied branch of serpentine magic!”

“That you use to fuck snake women,” Godric noted.

Salazar sighed, knowing he was beaten. “Listen,” he began, “if this is about your stupid theory-“

“Oh, it isn’t stupid,” Godric retorted with a twinkle in his eye, “I’m  _ certain  _ of it. You found a lovely basilisk woman somewhere, didn’t you, and seduced her with your…well, I would say “masculine charms,” but you’re… _ you.” _

“For the last time,” Salazar said in an exhausted tone, “Bella is not my blood child. I did  _ not  _ fuck a basilisk and have basilisk children with her.”

Godric nodded sagely. “Sure you didn’t, friend,” he replied, “but I want you to know that if you  _ had,  _ I would find the nearest bard and have him compose a saga to commemorate the occasion. Any man who beds a basilisk,  _ especially  _ a man who weds one, deserves to have his legend sung far and wide.”

The two returned to the castle, laughing all the way, certain that the future of Hogwarts was bright, and that the students would always be protected, kept safe by a monster who loved them.

*****

_ PRESENT DAY: _

Of course, that mission has been twisted by that monster. While he was a descendant of Papa, he was nothing like him. He was cruel, hateful, and seemed to think that some of the students didn’t belong! That was absurd! Her parents had always said that anyone with magic was allowed! And yet, she had been little more than a prisoner in her own body, attacking, and in one case, killing a student. She hated it!

After that other student cast that spell, she felt a wall rising around her. Was this it? Was she going to die, finally released from her torment?  _ “Papa, Dad, Mama, Mother… I’m sorry I failed…” _ she thought. And then, the pain started. It was like something was trying to force her body into a shape it was not supposed to be in. There was an internal pressure trying to resist the spell, but the force of the spell was too much. Finally, she felt something crack, and started to scream. As she did, however, she realized that her scream, which had started out as a hiss, was turning more and more human-like. In a flash, she realized what that ‘crack’ had done. 

“YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY SLAVE, POTTER!” that cruel, cruel descendant roared. She realized that it wasn’t in parseltongue! The curse he had placed upon her to only be able to speak and understand it was lifted! Now, she embraced the pain, and felt more ropes snap. The inability to not follow his instructions? Gone. The inability to shield her eyes so she wouldn’t inadvertently harm someone? Gone. The inability to turn into her lamia form? With a sickening crunch, she felt that vanish as well. And now, the spell was finishing up. She felt her arms appear once more, numb from centuries of non-use. Her hair had grown down to her waist. In the smoke, she cupped her breasts. They seemed to have grown as well.

Then, Bella felt something new settle into place. An echo, or a connection. To...someone. Maybe whoever had cast the spell? If that was what happened, then maybe it had been a soul bond spell? Had she just moved from one master to another?

No, wait. It didn’t feel like she was being forced to obey orders again. This  _ felt _ like a bond, but it was being shaped somehow, twisted from its original purpose. Bella knew that in such spells, intent was incredibly important. If whoever had cast it didn’t  _ want  _ to make her subservient...she wouldn’t be.

Bella felt another echo, a golden, shining soul on the other end of an invisible rope. Bella tried to focus on it, but she was still woozy, and it slipped out of her grasp. She did get a brief look, though, at a young man with a lightning scar and deep green eyes.

_ “Why is he so cute?”  _ Bella wondered. Whatever was going on, this young man was fighting the evil descendant who had enslaved her. She could smell magic on him, too, the magic of Hogwarts. He must be a student!

Bella thought back to...a long time ago, though how long she wasn’t exactly sure. Papa had knelt down and asked her to keep the students safe when he couldn’t. She thought she could hear his voice in her ear, telling her,  _ “Get up, Bella! You’re free now, just get up!”  _ Bella groaned as she tried to raise herself off of the floor, muscles screaming in protest. She gritted her teeth and did it anyway.

Someone she’d sworn to protect was in danger, and Bella had a promise to keep.

*****

Harry didn’t know what would await him when the smoke cleared. All he knew was that Riddle was furious.

“DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK FOR ME TO BIND HER!? HOW LONG IT TOOK TO FORCE HER TO MY WILL!? TO ATTACK MUDBLOODS!?” he raged.

Harry squinted, trying to see through the clouds of smoke and dust that filled the chamber. He wasn’t quite sure what his chant had done, but it had pissed Riddle off, so it was clearly working. Now, if only he knew how to defeat this memory…

Just then, Harry swore he felt something, some presence, brush against his mind. It faded again after a second, and he was too preoccupied to feel that worried about it. Instead, he called out, “Er, yeah! And now...she’s gone forever! There’s nothing you can do, so you might as well give up!”

Riddle paused, glaring directly at Harry, who did his best to look intimidating. Riddle asked, “You have no idea what that spell just did, do you?”

Harry shrugged sheepishly and answered, “Um...maybe? I think it worked, though.”

Riddle shook his head in frustration, dragging his hand over his face and groaning, “Great. My mortal nemesis is an  _ idiot  _ who doesn’t even know how to properly enslave a soul…”

“Hold on,” Harry cried, “are you saying that I just  _ enslaved  _ someone with that?”

“No, because you fucked up the spell,” Riddle told him, “you  _ didn’t know what it did,  _ so you couldn’t actually guide the damn thing. Instead, all you did is-GACK!”

The teenage Voldemort was suddenly interrupted by a powerful tail that swung through the smoke and dust, striking his nearly-solid form in the chest and sending him flying. Harry gawked at the deep green, scaly skin of what could only be the basilisk. Gripping his wand, he prepared to fight again.

Then, as the dust finally settled, he heard a rough, inhuman-sounding voice ask, “Who are you?” 

Turning, Harry felt his jaw drop. Instead of a massive, deadly snake, a beautiful woman appeared through the debris. Long, silky red hair hung down her back, so brilliant it looked like a sheet of flame. Her full red lips parted to reveal pointed fangs. Her eyes were deep green, like poison and the color of her scales. And she  _ had  _ scales, because from her thighs downward, she was a massive snake. The unmistakable tail of the basilisk wound around itself, much shorter than in her full snake form, making the woman appear just a little bit taller than a normal human woman when coiled up and upright. Harry’s eyes quickly tracked back upwards, though, because the woman was also completely without clothes, and her body was absolutely  _ insane.  _ Large and heavy breasts, wide hips, and pale skin that shone in the dim light of the Chamber all made Harry feel inescapably drawn to this strange woman.

“W-who are  _ you?”  _ Harry stammered, trying to avert his eyes from the woman’s naked form. 

The strange woman replied, “I am Bella.”

“You’re the basilisk,” Harry said, unsure if he was trying to ask a question or make a statement.

Bella nodded. “I am,” she said, “thank you for freeing me. I won’t have to hurt the students ever again.”

Harry frowned as he asked, “Wait, that’s what Riddle was talking about? You were being  _ forced  _ to do all the stuff you did?” 

Bella nodded guiltily, unable to meet Harry’s eyes. Harry felt a sudden pang of confusion. He’d come down here ready to slay a monster, to get revenge for all the people it had hurt. Instead, she had turned out to be as much a victim as anyone else, and a very beautiful woman to boot.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose for a second, trying very hard not to scream at the confusing mess that was his life. Finally, he said, “Okay, sure, whatever. Bella, do you think you can help me deal with this fucker?” Harry gestured to Riddle, who was getting back to his feet on the other side of the Chamber, eyes filled with murderous rage.

Bella grinned, exposing her pointed teeth. “Of course, Master,” she replied eagerly.

Harry froze. “Um, I’m sorry,” he asked, “what did you just call me?”

Bella looked confused at Harry’s confusion. “I called you Master,” she replied, “isn’t that what you are?”

Harry’s eyes went wide. With more force than he really intended, he insisted, “What?  _ No!  _ I’m not anybody’s master!”

“But the spell you used...it was meant to bind my soul to yours,” Bella told him, her face scrunched up adorably. Harry  _ really  _ wished he wasn’t so attracted to the giant snake lady at the moment, but honestly, it seemed like he didn’t get a say in that.

More importantly, his spell was meant to do  _ what?  _ Harry said, “I...I didn’t know that. I just wanted to make sure Riddle couldn’t use you to hurt anyone else.”

Bella frowned as she thought, the tip of her tail lashing back and forth. Harry got the sense that she was examining herself, trying to figure out what was going on. At last, she agreed, “So it seems. I am free again, Harry. For that, I thank you...but I think we have bigger problems at the moment.”

As Harry swiveled to face their common enemy, he had to dodge a nasty-looking curse that shot out of nowhere, whistling past his nose in a spiral of sickly yellow. Riddle stalked out of the debris of the chamber, leveling Ginny’s wand at him.

The memory snarled, “This isn’t over, Potter! I’ll kill you, and retake _my_ slave!” 

Then, he attacked. Harry barely had time to react before Bella coiled her body around him and flung him aside, protecting him from Riddle’s spell. As soon as Harry realized what she’d done, he protested, “Hey, I can fight, too!”

Bella looked at him with fury in her eyes, fury that was deeper than anything Harry had ever seen. It burned cold and deep, a built-up well from all the mistreatment she’d suffered under Riddle’s control. All the hatred of herself for what she’d done to the students she was meant to protect was now directed towards Riddle. Harry didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. He took a step back as Bella hissed, “He is  _ mine.”  _ Then, she charged at Riddle, whose eyes went wide as he was suddenly faced with a fully grown basilisk determined to rip him apart.

Unfortunately, he  _ couldn’t  _ be ripped apart, as Bella found out a moment later when she passed right through his ghostly chest. Riddle laughed, “Stupid snake, I’m not alive! Not  _ yet,  _ anyway!”

He ignored her, and shot another spell at Harry, who threw himself onto the ground to avoid it. Cursing under her breath in a long-dead language, Bella was forced to back away from Riddle and put herself between the echo and the students. Driven back again and again, eventually she was forced to coil protectively around them, hugging them both tight as dark green scales formed a fortress. Dark curses bounced off her scales, leaving her unscathed, though she winced in pain every time one struck. Riddle cackled venomously, eyes glittering as he pushed closer, searching for a weak point in Bella’s defenses.

Harry returned to Ginny’s side, desperately trying to wake her without success. “Come on, Ginny, wake up,” he murmured. Ginny’s eyes fluttered, but she didn’t move. 

Harry heard Bella yell in pain as another blow struck her body, and he felt his own anger rising. What was he supposed to  _ do?  _ Riddle was still incorporeal, nothing could hurt him. But he had to have some sort of physical anchor, something he was vulnerable to.

Bella’s coils shifted around them, and Harry’s eyes finally fell on the diary, lying open behind Riddle, and he finally put the pieces together.

_ “I have to destroy that diary,”  _ Harry realized,  _ “but how?” _

In desperation, Harry yelled, “Bella, we need to get to the diary! Can you…”

He couldn’t finish the thought. What did he want Bella to do? Sacrifice herself? Risk Ginny getting hurt?

In the silence, Harry could only hear Riddle’s laughter and Bella’s pained grunts as she protected them. He felt  _ useless,  _ unable to do anything.

And then a new sound joined the others in his ear: the most beautiful song he’d ever heard.

Harry had never heard it before, but something tugged his eyes skyward, and he saw a miracle. A phoenix,  _ Dumbledore’s  _ phoenix, descended from above them, keening a tragic lullaby as it clutched something in its claws.

With a jolt, Harry realized that it was the Sorting Hat. He didn’t have time to waste being confused as a rush of relief came through him. Maybe this wasn’t over. Then, Riddle yelled something, and Fawkes cried out in midair. Harry realized that the Sorting Hat was slipping from the phoenix’s claws, even as Fawkes struggled mightily against the pull of the spell. At last, the old hat came loose, and fell rapidly towards the echo of Voldemort, seemingly out of reach.

But not for Bella. With a cry, the basilisk lamia uncoiled herself and leapt upwards, seizing the Sorting Hat just before it could fall into Riddle’s hands. Riddle cast another curse, and Bella yelled in pain; the sound tore at Harry’s heart. 

But Bella held onto the old hat, even if she had to clamp it between her teeth as another one of Riddle’s spells made her hands go numb. Bella raced back to Harry’s side. Urgently, she told him, “Harry, use this. I’ll distract him.”

“Use...a hat,” Harry repeated numbly, confused beyond belief. What was the Sorting Hat going to do?

“Yes! It will help... _ they  _ will help,” Bella whispered as a spell sang past them. Then, she had to turn again, to keep Riddle away from the students.

  
  


Harry started numbly at the hat in his hands, and decided,  _ “Fuck it, it can’t hurt.”  _ He put it on, and was rewarded with a heavy object landing on his head. “Ow!” Harry complained as he reached into the hat...and pulled out a longsword with gleaming rubies in its hilt and a lion on the pommel.

Harry couldn’t help the look of wonder that filled his face as he stared at the weapon, the shine of the metal brighter than any he’d ever seen. Something told him that this was exactly what he’d needed.

Harry turned back to the battle, where Bella was still trying to keep Riddle distracted, fighting a hopeless fight to buy him time. His eyes fell on the diary, still on the ground, and he raced towards it.

_ “No!”  _ Riddle yelled, but his curse was blocked once again by Bella, who knocked Ginny’s wand from his hands with a well-placed strike of her tail. The wand went spinning away and came clattering down among the rubble that littered the ground. Before Riddle could get it back, Harry had reached the diary.

Guided by an instinct he couldn’t place, Harry raised the sword above the diary in a two-handed grip, the point unwavering above its open pages.

Just before he plunged it downwards, Harry’s eyes met Riddle’s. He saw nothing there but rage and disbelief, and he didn’t hesitate.

Harry said, “Go to hell.” Then, he stabbed the diary with all his might. 

There was an explosion of magic that sent Harry flying, as Riddle screamed and dissolved, ink covering the ground as the echo died. Riddle had no last words, no dying curse; he just came apart like smoke in the wind, and then was forgotten.

Panting, Harry propped himself up with the sword he’d pulled from nowhere, and looked up into Bella’s eyes. He asked, “Did..did we just win?”

Bella’s response was a cry of happiness and relief as she raced across the broken ground to sweep him into a desperate hug. Harry groaned as her strong arms squeezed his ribcage, only for that groan to get cut off when Bella’s hug pushed him in between the soft mounds of her breasts.

Harry went rigid, trying desperately to ignore how much he enjoyed the feel of being suffocated between Bella’s boobs. He told himself,  _ “She’s a snake. She’s a snake. She’s a  _ bloody  _ snake.”  _ It didn’t work, especially when Bella released him from tit prison and mashed a frantic, unthinking kiss to his lips. Harry couldn’t help but return it, stunned by her forwardness and excitement.

At last, Bella let him go, and instantly turned bright red. It was a few seconds before either of them could look the other in the eye. When they could, Bella cheered, “We did it, Harry! We actually did it!”

“Yes,” a new voice agreed from nowhere, “yes you did. And we are so  _ proud  _ of you.”

Harry and Bella whirled to face that voice, which turned out to belong to a man with a thin, aristocratic face and long goatee. His body vanished into flowing robes, and he was beaming in happiness. He was also slightly blue and translucent, though Bella didn’t seem to care that much as she slumped in Harry’s arms, crying openly as she said, “Papa?”

“Hello, sweetie,” replied Salazar Slytherin, his own eyes shimmering with ghostly tears, “it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”


	9. Chapter 9

As soon as she saw the ethereal form of her adopted father, Bella tore herself from Harry’s arms, racing across the twisted and broken floor of the chamber. She cried, “Papa! It’s been so long!”

Salazar’s smile grew sadder as Bella reached him, only for her hands to pass uselessly through his chest. Bella looked down at her empty arms, then back up at the somber form of the man who had raised her. She whispered, “What? I...why... _Papa?”_

“I’m sorry,” Salazar told her gently, “I wish I could hold you, too...but I can’t.”

Tears began to slip down Bella’s cheeks, a strange mix of human and snake as she slumped down in front of the ghost of her father. In a choked, trembling voice, she asked, “H-how long? How long was I gone?”

“You were asleep for nine hundred years,” Salazar replied softly, “At first, it was...it was because we didn’t want you to see us die; but Parseltongue was outlawed, labeled Dark and forbidden, and so...nobody could wake you up again.”

Bella was openly crying now, deep sobs wracking her body as she mourned the family she’d never known she’d lost. She said, “Papa, I...I _failed_ you. I let that man control me, I _hurt the students.”_

Salazar floated down until he was again on eye-level with Bella. Resting a ghostly hand on her shoulder, he assured her, “You _never_ failed me, Bella. It wasn’t your fault that that man twisted my creation to his evil whims. And you _won_ in the end, Bella. You kept your promise, and you _beat_ my bastard of a descendant.”

“Please,” a new voice added, gruff, deep, but not unkind, “that piece of shit doesn’t deserve to claim a _damn_ thing from ye, least of all your blood. And ye gods, Bella, you’ve grown so _much!”_ Bella’s eyes went wide as she twisted rapidly towards the ghostly form of Godric Gryffindor, who was floating just a few feet away. Just like Salazar, he looked just like Bella remembered him, with a powerful build, long beard, and checkered kilt. Even the ghostly version of his legendary sword was strapped to his back, while the real version remained clutched in the slack grip of Harry, who was watching the whole scene in disbelief.

Bella cried, “Dad, you’re here, too!”

“Course I am,” Godric scoffed, “it takes more than death to keep this wizard down.” As he spoke, Godric came closer and tried to approximate a hug with his incorporeal body, surrounding Bella with the forms of her fathers just like the old days.

The word “death” made Bella flinch again, and Salazar shot a warning glare at Godric, who shrugged apologetically. Bella asked, “W-Wait, if you...if you’re... _gone,_ how are you still here?”

Softly, Salazar answered, “We were the first ghosts of Hogwarts, Bella. We left so much of ourselves in this place, had so much work left to do, that we chose to stay behind and watch over it.”

Bella hung her head in lingering grief. “So...you’re not really gone?” she wondered, her voice rising hopefully.

“Would we be talkin’ to ye if we were?” Godric pointed out, “We stay hidden, most of the time, but we’re _always_ here. Ye aren’t alone, Bella.”

Bella’s eyes went wide as she came to another realization. She asked, “A...a few times, I could have _sworn_ I heard your voice, Papa. Was that...really you?”

His eyes brimming with pained tears, Salazar nodded as he responded, “Yes, Bella. It hurt so badly to see you fighting that _man’s_ control...I kept trying to help, trying to reach out to you…”

Godric put a rough hand on Salazar’s shoulder as the thinner man hung his head in sorrow, while Bella did the same. “Oi, that’s all in the past,” he reminded them both.

Bella managed to perk up again. “Yeah, you’re right!” she agreed, “and...there’s someone I want you to meet!”

Salazar and Godric exchanged grim, ominous looks as they followed Bella’s turn. The lamia pointed at Harry, who was staring with wide-eyed shock at the ghosts of two of the Founders.

Bella said, “This is Harry! He saved me from that man’s control!”

Salazar and Godric shared yet another ominously silent exchange as they stared Harry down.

At last, Salazar said, “Yes, we’re _very_ aware of exactly what he did.”

The words were enough to snap Harry out of his confusion. He said, “Um, I’m sorry, Lord Slytherin, Lord Gryffindor, but I’m afraid I...don’t get what’s going on.”

“What’s going _on,”_ Salazar replied, “is that you used a soul-binding spell on my adopted daughter.”

Harry flinched as Godric cracked his ghostly knuckles. “Um, I’m _really_ sorry about that,” Harry told the ghosts of two of the greatest wizards who had ever lived, “it was an accident, and I didn’t really know what the spell did…”

Salazar rolled his eyes and told Godric, “See, this is why he’s in _your_ house. Only your students would find an old, _clearly_ dangerous spell in a book and cast it for the first time in the middle of a battle.”

Godric countered, “Hey, go a _little_ easy on the boy. He did save Bella.”

“Yeah, but you _know_ what the effect is going to be!” Salazar replied in a heated voice, making Harry tense up.

“Sure,” Godric admitted, “but Bella’s not a slave, and you know it. Honestly, the boy might well be perfect for her anyway.” Bella and Harry both tilted their heads in confusion, not knowing what Godric meant. 

Salazar held his best friend’s gaze for a moment, then dropped it and grumbled, “I still don’t like it. Bella may have grown up, but…”

“But you still see her as your little girl?” Godric guessed, a teasing grin on his face.

Salazar nodded silently, pressing his lips tightly together as he slowly floated over to his adopted daughter. Gently, he asked, “Bella...do you trust Harry?”

Blinking in surprise at the question, Bella still answered immediately, “I do.”

“Why?” Salazar pressed.

Harry watched as Bella glanced back at him, a tender yet unreadable look in her eyes. After a moment, she responded, “He saved me, and helped me protect the students, and...and he’s a good man, I can _tell.”_

“Do you want to stay with him?” Salazar asked. 

Bella’s reaction deeply confused Harry. Even as she looked deeply confused, a blush spread across her cheeks until they were almost as red as her hair. “I...I do,” she admitted, “wherever he goes, I want to follow.”

Salazar stared evenly at Bella for a long moment, and she met his gaze more steadily than she’d thought herself able to. At last, Salazar hung his head and sighed tiredly, “Merlin damn it, I never could deny you the things you want, could I?”

“Does that mean you’ll let me go with him?” Bella asked, excitement welling up inside her. She’d been trapped down here for so long...she wanted to see the students again, have them be excited to see _her._ She wanted to bask in the sun again, play on the grounds, and enjoy being _free._ But most of all...she wanted to do all of those things _with_ Harry. She couldn’t _quite_ place what she was feeling, not yet, but she knew he was a safe place for her.

“It’s not about whether I’ll _let_ you do anything,” Salazar replied somberly, “you’re free to make your own choice, whatever it is. I don’t like the circumstances...but it’s not up to me, and he does seem like a good man.”

“Yay!” Bella cheered, trying and failing to hug Salazar once again, much to their chagrin.

Meanwhile, Godric marched over to Harry (how a ghost could _march,_ Harry didn’t know, but Godric managed it). The powerfully-built man’s eyes seared right through Harry, leaving him feeling like a piece of meat being carved apart. Godric circled Harry once, then twice. At last, he came to a stop in front of Harry, and Harry tried not to wilt in terror. With his arms crossed over his chest, Godric said, “That’s my sword you’ve got there, laddie.”

Harry had completely forgotten he was still holding the sword, and he glanced down at it in shock, stammering, “Oh, uh, sorry, sir, I didn’t realize...I can give it back?“

Godric held up a hand, and Harry shut up. With a strange twinkle in his eye and a smile threatening to break through his glowering expression, Godric told him, “Nah, laddie, keep it.”

“But it’s _yours,”_ Harry protested, “I just...pulled it out of a hat!”

“Which means you’re worthy to wield it,” Godric replied, “there aren’t many people who can say that. Besides, it’s not like I need the bloody thing now, anyway.” Godric gestured to his translucent form, and Harry relaxed a little. Maybe this wouldn’t go badly after all. Then, Godric continued, “Of course, you’re also weak, scrawny, pathetic, and yer form with the bloody blade is _awful._ I’ve seen _babies_ with more wrist strength than ye!”

Harry flinched a little, then muttered, “It’s not like I’ve gotten any bloody _training_ or anything, what do you expect?”

“I heard that!” Godric barked, the irritation in his tone at odds with the amused twinkle in his eyes, “and what are ye talking about? I made _sure_ there were mandatory swordfighting classes on the Hogwarts curriculum!”

“Um...I’m pretty sure there aren’t anymore,” Harry replied helpfully, still very confused.

“Dammit, what kind of _idiot_ would get rid of swordfighting class?” Godric wondered, thinking for a moment, before turning around and yelling, “Oi, Sally, when did they get rid of swordfighting class?”

“Four centuries ago,” Salazar called back in a dry, amused tone.

Godric turned back around, looking so comically irritated that Harry swore he was _pouting._ The bearded man grumbled, “God, it was like yesterday! I _loved_ swordfighting class, dammit! Why did they get rid of it?”

From across the Chamber, Salazar replied, “I believe it was because of the astronomical death rate.”

Godric’s pout only got deeper as he muttered, “Bloody spoilsports.”

Harry almost felt more at ease around Godric after that, though he still felt a little like he was being dissected. Eventually, he asked, “So, um, are you still mad about the whole spell thing?”

Godric raised a bushy eyebrow as he replied, “Nah. I can tell you didn’t mean any harm by it. And besides, it did set Bella free, so...you’re alright in my book. Just...treat her right, or _else.”_

Harry shivered in dread from the tone of Godric’s voice, even though he wasn’t quite sure what the Founder meant. 

Still, Harry did nod and promise, “I will.” It was better to be safe than sorry, probably.

Godric nodded in satisfaction, and laid a hand on the space over Harry’s shoulder. With a bright, easy smile on his face, Godric said, “Take care, Potter. You’re a true member of my House. I’ll be keeping an eye on ye, and on that redheaded friend of yours, the one that’s already managed to get himself a pretty spider wife.”

Surprised, Harry blurted out, “Wait, you know about that?”

Godric threw his head back and guffawed loudly, then said, “Boy, we see _everything_ that goes down in this castle. Keep that in mind when you and Bella are…well, I’m not gonna go there, actually.”

Behind him, Salazar dropped the death glare that he’d been aiming at his best friend and told him, “Good plan. Now, why don’t you go say goodbye to Bella?”

“Wait, you guys are leaving?” Harry asked, hoping that they wouldn’t hurt Bella so badly all over again.

“For now,” Salazar confirmed, “or rather, we just need to make sure we become invisible to everyone again before you get that girl out of here and back to the surface. We don’t need everyone freaking out because we’ve suddenly revealed ourselves.”

As he spoke, Salazar gestured to where Ginny was slowly stirring nearby, clutching her head and seemingly not knowing where she was.

Harry nodded, deciding that Salazar’s reasons for preferring to remain unseen made sense. He asked, “But...you will still be around, right? Bella...I don’t want her to never see you guys again.”

Something softened in Salazar’s expression then, as he replied, “You’re a considerate man, Mister Potter. Perhaps Godric is right, and you _will_ be good for Bella.”

“Um...thank you, sir,” Harry said awkwardly, not quite sure what to say, “I’ll do my best to...help everyone get used to her.”

Salazar nodded grimly as he sighed, “Alas, she’ll need it. Attitudes towards her kind have...changed significantly since our day, and for the worse. Doubtless, there will be more like her. Actually, that brings me to what I was hoping to speak to you about. You see, I have two requests for you.”

Harry’s eyes went wide at that, but he quickly replied, “Of course I’ll help, sir. What do you need?”

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor,” Salazar said with a smile.

“You’re damn right!” Godric called from where he and Bella were engaged in an extended ghostly hug.

Salazar laughed, then sombered again as he regarded Harry. Softly, he began, “My first request is...take good care of Bella for me. I...didn’t get to watch her grow up, not as much as I wanted to. But maybe...maybe I can watch her be happy.”

Harry nodded gravely, wondering what exactly the two Founders meant by all of these strange references to him and Bella. “I’ll do my best,” Harry promised.

“I know you will,” Salazar said almost... _approvingly?_

Huh. Maybe Harry was actually growing on him. Salazar’s expression soured further when Harry asked, “Uh, what’s your second request, sir?”

“My second request,” Salazar answered with an expression like he had stepped in a pile of kelpie dung, “concerns the school house that bears my name.”

Harry couldn’t help but tense up. Honestly, the more he’d spoken to Salazar Slytherin, the more confused he’d become. How had this soft-spoken, intelligent, and seemingly warm man founded a house of cruel, monstrous purebloods who were evil by nearly any metric but their own?

“I don’t need to guess what you’re thinking, Potter. Slytherin House has become...a plague on this institution in many ways,” Salazar admitted. Harry tried to argue, but he thought of Draco’s taunts against Hermione, the slurs, the threats, the hate spewed almost blindly by nearly every member of the house, and he found that he couldn’t. “I don’t know if it can be redeemed, not truly,” Salazar admitted, “but...I’m not going to concern you with the regrets of an old man. I want you to worry about the ones who can still be saved.”

“What do you mean, sir?” Harry asked.

Salazar replied, “Believe it or not, Potter, there are those in Slytherin House who do not truly believe the poisons they spew. They go along with it out of fear, or ambition, or simply because it’s what they’ve known all their lives, and they can’t imagine another way of life.”

Harry felt his heart twinge with sympathy at that, but he was still confused. He asked, “What am I supposed to do? How can I help with that?”

Salazar’s expression was distant and thoughtful; he seemed to run through centuries of faces and names in a few moments, perhaps wondering who could have been saved if he had not been so blind. Eventually, he told Harry, “I want you to keep an open mind. I want you to understand the reasons people can be cruel, and...if someone, anyone, even someone you have every reason to hate, tries to break free of their path and choose a new one, I want you to be there, able to see the face of someone who needs help to see a better option, and not the crest on their robes. Can you do that for me?”

Harry took a deep breath. It went against so many of his instincts, of the things he thought made him a Gryffindor, but then...helping people was something that _every_ house should idealize, wasn’t it?

Harry nodded, and agreed, “I will, sir.”

Salazar smiled brightly this time, a look of relief and hope after years of despair. “Thank you,” he said in a voice that was layered with a hundred different emotions.

  
  


Then, Salazar moved out of the way, and Harry saw Bella in front of him. Once again, he felt his breath desert him as he saw just how beautiful she was, how her eyes shimmered with mischief and kindness and ferocity all at once. Bella’s stare seemed to linger, too, and for a moment, they didn’t say a word. Then, at last, the spell broke, and Bella asked, “So, are we ready to get out of here?”

Shaking his head a few times to clear the last of the strange fog in his mind, Harry replied, “Er, yeah, good idea. Although...how are we going to do that?”

Bella grinned, and turned around, making Harry realize again just how _perfect_ her _very_ bare curves were. She said, “You’re going to ride me, obviously!”

For a heartbeat, Harry could only swallow dryly, feeling his cheeks heat up. At last, he gathered himself, and told her, “Okay. I’ll get Ginny.” A minute later, Harry and a barely-revived Ginny were clinging onto Bella’s tail for dear life as she began to leave through one of the massive pipes that ringed the walls of the Chamber. Salazar and Godric waved as they left, more hopeful for their adopted daughter’s future than ever.

When they were gone, Salazar sighed, “I wish Helga and Rowena had showed up.”

“Me too,” Godric agreed, “but they said they were busy comforting a student.”

Salazar looked up in abrupt shock. “Wait, they _revealed themselves?”_ he asked in disbelief.

Godric replied, “No, it’s the spooky lass who can see us anyway, remember? _Her_ granddaughter?”

Salazar’s eyes went wide, and he nodded in understanding. “Ah, I remember now,” he mused, “yes, I’d imagine that she’s quite distraught right now, what with the person she loves being missing from the school.”

“Yeah,” Godric responded, “but it worked out alright, didn’t it? Bravery...and some cunning, of course...won the day!”

Salazar just sighed in resignation at his friend’s antics, while his eyes wandered the chamber he had built as a refuge for Bella all those centuries ago. Suddenly, his eyes landed on a specific feature of the chamber, and he stiffened in rage.

In a low, dangerous voice, Salazar hissed, _“Why is there a gigantic carving of my face in here?_ That’s just...ridiculous! I would _never_ put something like that in my own daughter’s home! I swear, if Riddle did this, I’m going to-“

“Oh, no, that wasn’t Riddle,” Godric interrupted with a wry grin and a chuckle, “that was me. I snuck in here after you finished building the place and left my own touch.”

Salazar rounded on his friend, fury written on his face. “You _bastard!”_ he shouted, “you didn’t even get my face _right!”_

Utterly unperturbed, Godric replied, “Of course I did. Just because you don’t like to admit that your nose is that big doesn’t mean it isn’t.”

Mystified, Salazar raised a translucent hand to his face, trying to feel his nose. Of course, that didn’t work, and Salazar ended up snapping, “Oh, aren’t you a regular comedian. I _knew_ I made the right choice, cursing your entire house to be drawn to monstrous women.”

Godric just grinned as he retorted, “Wait, that was supposed to be a _curse?_ I’m pretty sure that Potter’s going to be _benefiting_ from that!”

“You are the _worst,”_ Salazar muttered, irritated by the mention of their adopted daughter’s soon-to-be mate.

“Probably,” Godric agreed, “now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go watch the fireworks up above. And after that...I need to find a bard.”

Confused, Salazar asked, “A bard? Why?”

“Because, I’m pretty sure Potter’s going to be earning himself a saga pretty soon, when he starts working on making you a grandpa snake,” Godric replied with a grin that bore an uncanny resemblance to the one he’d worn so long ago, when he’d teased Salazar about his theory that Salazar was Bella’s blood father. Then, Godric vanished from sight.

“There haven’t been _bards_ in centuries!” Salazar shouted, only to realize that he’d done so to an empty room. With a last grumble about stupid friends and idiot students, he, too, vanished. The chamber was left empty and quiet, a dark shadow lifted from its stones at last.

*****

The moment that Bella was out of the Chamber, she turned her head to the two students clinging to her tail. “This isn’t comfortable for you, is it?” she asked.

Harry blushed. “K-kinda… should we just walk?” He stammered, trying hard not to look at her truly divine breasts… her hair that flowed like a waterfall of red… ‘focus!’ he told himself.

“I’m sorry,” she said, drooping. There was a shimmering, and then, Bella had once again become a full-on basilisk. “Hop on,” she hissed, speaking in English.

“I… didn’t know you could speak English in this form…” Harry mutured. “It would’ve helped in knowing you were enslaved,” he added.

The basilisk made a sound that Harry thought was a whimper. “I… I couldn’t… he… he put a curse on me…” she sniffled. Harry immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” he said, patting her scales.

“It’s fine,” she told him. She continued to slither along, heading towards the cave in. “What happened here?” she asked.

“Professor Lockhart tried to erase me and Ron’s memories,” Harry said.

“W-why would he do that!?” Ginny exclaimed.

“He admitted he’s a fraud. He took credit for things others did, and erased their memories,” Harry told her. Ginny gasped.

“W-what happened?” Ginny whispered.

“It was strange. There was nothing, and then the wand turned to ash. Then, there was this massive explosion and the walls caved in,” Harry told her.

Bella stopped her journey. “The wand… disintegrated? Into ash?” she asked.

“Uhhh… yeah… why?” Harry inquired.

“Papa told me about that… it’s very rare for wands to sacrifice themselves like that…”

“Sacrifice themselves? Aren’t they just tools?”

Bella turned her head to look at the two. “Just what ARE they teaching you these days!?” she exclaimed. “Wand lore was a core class for first years on up!”

“There’s a class on wand lore?” Harry asked Ginny.

“Dad said it was a NEWT 7th year course…” Ginny said.

“Seventh year!? Wand Lore!?” Bella exclaimed, hissing in anger. “When I see your current Headmaster I’m going to give them a piece of my mind!” she growled.

“So… what does it mean?” Ginny asked.

“The spirit of the wand appealed to the personification of Magic HERSELF!” Bella exclaimed.

“Magic… is sentient?” Harry whispered.

“AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!” Bella howled in frustration. “WHAT ARE THEY TEACHING YOU?! OBVIOUSLY NOTHING!” The basilisk inhaled, and then exhaled. “Alright, I’m calm, Master. There’s no telling what happened. With that kind of power, reality is erased and rewritten. This ‘Lockhart’ may no longer exist. Or he’s now dead. Or the spell backfired and he’s lost all of his memories. There’s really no way to tell.”

Ginny gulped. “I- I’m sorry for bringing you all into this…” she sniffled, clutching Harry. Harry turned around and ruffled her hair.

“This wasn’t your fault, Ginny,” he told her. Before she could say anything else, Bella shimmered, and turned into a lamia again. Harry blushed and covered his face, trying to hide from the bountiful breasts bouncing by him. “Y-you need some clothes, Bella…” he told her.

Bella looked down, and cupped her breasts. “Huh. I guess that my old clothes rotted away… they’re not on me…” Bella began to sniffle. “Helena made those for me…” Harry patted her tail, and the three continued to the collapsed area.

“RON!” Harry shouted.

“Harry! You’re alright! Is Ginny OK?!” Ron shouted from behind the rocks.

“She’s alright!” Harry called.

“What about the basilisk?” Roon inquired.

Harry looked at Bella. “...It turns out she was just as much of a victim as Ginny was…” he said.

There was a pause. “What?”

“Just help me move the rocks and you’ll see!” Harry told him. “Hey, what happened with Professor Lockhart?”

“Reality warped to make him not a fraud,” Ron responded.

“I still can’t believe that I was, apparently, a glory hound who stole fame from others. I didn’t even want fame!” a rougher version of Lockhart’s voice cried out.

“Welcome to the club, Professor,” Harry deadpanned, moving some rocks. Eventually, thanks to Bella’s strength, they managed to part the rocks so that someone could squeeze through. Ginny went first. Then he did. Finally, it was Bella’s turn. She got stuck thanks to her sizable assets, but Harry managed to pull her through.

“Ah, a Lamia. How interesting. I thought they only lived in Nevada these days,” Lockhart mused.

“A Lamia? Those exist?” Harry exclaimed.

“Indeed. Once they mingled with humans, but after a brutal extermination campaign in the early 1800s, they were forced to the United States, which was the only magical government that offered them refuge,” Lockarrt explained.

Harry gained a horrified look. “W-why!?” Bella was also tearing up. Why had the Wizards tried to wipe her kind out!?

To Harry’s surprise, Ron was growling. “Several Pureblood men and women had tried to marry them, but they had all refused, citing that their blood was rotten. Thus, they petitioned the Ministries to exterminate them.”

Lockhart nodded. “Many families, however, didn’t go along. If memory serves, the Weasley family was the keystone of getting the surviving British Lamia across the Ocean,” Lockhart added.

“It was the right thing to do,” Ron said. Bella gave him a hug, pressing her breasts against him.

“So, Harry… feel free to tell me what happened,” Ron said. “But first, we need to get out of here. Any ideas?”

Fawks then chipped, and landed. 

“Dumbledore’s Phoenix? Well, that’s our ticket out of here. Grab hold of him, and he’ll take us to the Headmaster’s office,” Lockhart instructed. Everyone grabbed on, and Fawks took to the sky, not even slowing down with the extra weight of his four human and one lamia passengers. It was even more exhilarating than the slide down, and it was far shorter. After only fifteen seconds, they landed in Myrtle’s bathroom.

“You’re alive!” she gleefully declared. She then turned to Bella. “And who are you?”

“Myrtle, this is Bella. She was controlled by Tom Riddle, who was the heir-”

“Tommy?!” Myrtle exclaimed. “He was the heir of Slytherin?!” Myrtle exclaimed in shock.

“Something tells me that you knew him…” Ron muttered.

“Of course I knew him! We were friends!” Myrtle said. “Was… was he just playing me?”

Harry felt a spike of anguish, and had no idea where it came from. “I… I don’t think so,” he said. “I don’t know how I know, but I’m sure your death wasn’t meant to happen… I saw his memories where he framed Hagrid… he was crying… I’m pretty sure it was an accident.”

Bella nodded. “He tortured me… with a curse… after that attack… said I went after the ‘wrong person…’” Bella admitted. “However… a week later… he stopped caring… something happened and I don’t know what…”

“It doesn't matter now. All we know is that the attacks are over, and we have to see the Headmaster… if he’s back…” Ron said.

Fawks chirped a bit.

“It’s more than likely that he is back, Ron,” Harry told his friend. “If he isn’t, McGonagall will listen, right?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Le discord: https://discord.gg/MEGP4gS

As it turned out, Dumbledore was, in fact, back in his office, along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Professor McGonagall. When the group walked into his office, Dumbledore was dumbfounded, and he was not alone. “So… would anyone care to tell me what, exactly, happened?” he requested. Before anyone could say anything, both Weasley parents leapt at their daughter.

“GINNY!” Mrs. Weasley wept, hugging her daughter like she’d disappear if she let go. Considering the past 12 hours, no one could blame her. “Are you alright!? Who was the heir!?” she exclaimed. “Harry! Please tell me- and is that a Lamia!?” she exclaimed, looking at Bella in shock. “I thought they were all in the US!”

“Patience, Molly. While I know you are distressed and would love nothing more then to find who did this, I have my suspicions. Harry, please tell us everything, and leave nothing out.”

Harry nodded fearfully, and explained everything, from when they entered the chamber, up to when they left.

“So Lord Voldemort managed to possess Ginny… even though my sources tell me that his spirit is hiding out in the forests of Albania at the moment,” he said.

“Y-you Know W-who P-posessed Ginny?” Mrs. Weasley whispered. “How!?”

“H-his diary! I-I found it in t-the books Dad bought me… I- I’ve been talking to him!” she sobbed, clutching her parents like she was a young child, not a 14 year old.

“Oh Ginny! Haven’t I taught you anything?! If something can think for itself, don’t trust it until you see where it keeps its mind! But… how did it get in her books…” he thought aloud, confused and worried.

“Professor McGonagall, Professor Lockhart, will you please excuse us, alert the kitchens for a feast celebrating the triumph of these two Gryffindors, and take Ginny and her parents up to the Hospital wing for a calming draught? I daresay she needs it. There is no punishment, as poor Ginny was merely a puppet, possessed by Lord Voldemort. Older, wiser, and more powerful wizards have fallen prey to his traps, so it makes no sense to punish a first year. Please leave me, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and… errr… what is your name?” Dumbledore asked the Lamia who everyone had seemed to forget about.

“Bella. Are you the Headmaster?” she asked.

Dumbledore nodded. “Miss Bella may stay as well. I need to discuss a few things with you three,” he said. Minerva nodded, and escorted the three Weasleys to the Hospital Wing. When the door closed, Bella slithered up to Dumbledore, a furious look on her face.

“WHY HAS WAND LORE BEEN PUSHED TO SEVENTH YEAR!?” she screamed at him. “AND WHY DOES NO ONE KNOW MAGIC IS SENTIENT! WHAT’S NEXT, THE STUDENTS NOT BEING WARNED ABOUT THE FAE!?”

“The what?” Harry asked.

“AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!” Bella screamed, trying her hardest not to constrict the Headmaster. Her hands were making grasping motions at the Headmaster.

“My dear, please put some clothes on. While I don't swing that way, I think you are distracting Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore calmly said. He then waved his wand, and Bella was wearing a shirt that read ‘Mega Snek’. Harry had to fight down a laugh.

“You spelled ‘snake’ wrong,” Bella grumbled.

“There is a difference between ‘snake’ and ‘snek’ but that’s not what we’re here to discuss. What we are here to discuss is the sheer bravery you two have done. Not only have you risked your lives to save young Ginny, but you risked expulsion due to breaking one hundred and seventy three rules. I think you two should have special awards for services to the school… and two hundred points to Gryffindor.”

“Two hundred?” Ron whispered.

“Each,” Dumbledore said. Ron nearly fainted. “Yes, it appears that Gryffindor will win the House Cup again this year. Mr. Weasley, will you take a note to the Owlery, and request our Gamekeeper back from Azkaban? I’d request not having Hagrid there for a second longer then he has to be there,” Dumbledore instructed him. Ron nodded, and took off. Dumbledore then looked at Harry and Bella. “It shows how different you are from Lord Voldemort that you used such a powerful enslavement ritual and you released this poor soul from Voldemort’s control,’ he said.

“Sir?” Harry asked.

“I am not blind, Harry. You have been nervous about your ability to speak Parseltongue for quite some time, have you not? You wonder if Gryffindor is the right house for you,” Dumbledore mused.

“Y-yes, sir…” Harry said.

“Well, had Slytherin House been like it was during the Founding, I have no doubt that Salazar would’ve literally fought to have you in his House,” Dumbledore mused.

“I met him, sir. Him and Gryffindor. Their ghosts talked to me and Bella,” Harry said.

“That is rare. Few students have interacted with the Founders’ ghosts. I have met them on occasion, but only after I became Headmaster. Godric has a nasty habit of popping out of toilets right when you’re rushing to the bathroom,” Dumbledore said. “You have, shall I say, Slytherin’s good traits. You’re cunning, resourceful, and have a mentality that basically boils down to ‘screw the rules, I’m doing what’s right!’. Lord Voldemort, who is directly descended from Salazar, has evil versions. He is cunning in his cruelty, resourceful in his schemes, and has a lust for power that makes him willing to break all rules to fulfill selfish motives.” Dumbledore paused, and saw Harry’s eyes still filled with worry. It physically hurt to see him like that.

“B-but what about Parseltounge? H-how can I speak it?”

Dumbledore sighed. He had a theory, and he didn’t like it. But with the diary… it seemed more and more probable. He’d have to check. “Before I answer that, Harry, let me tell you something. The vast majority of beings, magical or non-magical, have been shades or grey in morality. Very few are pure evil. In fact, I have only seen one student who had no shred of goodness in them, and it wasn’t Riddle.”

“S-sir… are you saying…”

“That there’s a more evil Dark Lord out there? No. Last I checked, she was working for the Ministry. But back to Tom. Despite what you may think, when he was 11, he was cold and calculating, yes, but he also had a genuine desire to be loved. Myrtle, a muggle-born who would be sorted into Ravenclaw, was someone he grew close to. He had already drawn a group of others who he called friends but were more like minions, but I do believe he genuinely cared for her. In fact, while I did suspect him of opening the chamber, the fact that Myrtle had died threw me off. After that… that sliver of goodness was crushed inside of him, forced down into the bottom of his soul… until that night in Godric’s Hollow.”

“W-what do you mean?” Harry stammered.

“That night, when Voldemort attempted to murder an infant- the worst sort of crime against nature a human can do- that sliver of good could no longer remain in him. So when the spell backfired, that sliver ripped itself from him, and attached itself to you. I’ve heard rumors that it burns when Voldemort is nearby, or when he’s about to do something. Perhaps it is because of that small, small portion of him that looks on in horror at what he has become, and is begging you to stop himself.”

“V-Voldemort… has a part of him in me?” Harry gagged.

“No. Tom Riddle, the innocent child who was curious and wanted real friends, has a portion of himself in you. Lord Voldemort does not have a claim to you, Harry. Never forget that.”

Harry remembered something. “Occasionally… over the past year… I’ve had… bursts of emotion. When I was facing Voldemort down in the Chambers, I felt an uncontrollable rage, and shouted at him for killing Myrtle. Additionally, I felt a spike off anguish when Myrtle asked if Voldemort was just using her…”

“While I doubt this sliver of soul is intelligent enough to express anything beyond base emotion, take heed, Harry. Voldemort did not, has not, and will NEVER corrupt you. You won’t be taken over like poor Ginny. Your thoughts are your own. Never forget that.”

Before either of them could say anything more, the touching scene was ruined by the door slamming open, bouncing off the wall. Lucius Malfoy strode in, and behind him, much to Harry’s shock was Dobby. Bella slithered in front of Harry, arms spread in a protective stance.

“So you’ve returned, and brought that thing with you,” he spat, nudging in the general direction fo Bella.

“Dear, dear, Lucius. Is that how you treat a basilisk?” Dumbledore inquired.

The Malfoy Patriarch nearly choked on his own spit. “What?!”

“It seems that the basilisk herself was as much of a victim as any of the petrified students,” Dumbledore explained. “Additionally, I know you’d love to hear my excuse as to why I have returned. You see, after the news that Arthur Weasley’s daughter had been taken, the other Governors sent me an entire flock of owls, begging me to return. Eight of them mentioned that you had threatened to curse their families had they not agreed to suspend me in the first place. And worry not, Lucius. The culprit has been caught.”

“I… see,” the pure-blood said after a pause. “Who was it?”

“It was the same person as last time. Only this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through his diary, possessing a student to do his dirty work for him. Said student is, of course, distraught, but those used against their will aren’t guilty,” Dumbledore said, eyes glaring at Malfoy while holding up the destroyed diary. Harry, meanwhile, was watching Dobby. The House Elf was pointing at Lucius, the Diary, and then beating himself, as if he had done something he shouldn’t have. It took all of three seconds for Harry to figure it out.

Dumbledore continued. “Young Ms. Weasley claims to have found the diary in her school books. It is likely that someone close to Lord Voldemort set her up. It would’ve been horrible if Voldemort wasn’t exposed. Poor Ginny would’ve taken the blame, and Arthur’s Muggle Protection Act would’ve never passed.”

“Unfortunate indeed,” Lucius growled.

“I think I know how it got there,” Harry suddenly said.

“Oh?” Dumbledore inquired.

“I think Lucius put it there when he and Mr. Weasley had that fight. You slipped it into her cauldron as a petty revenge scheme against the Weasleys.”

“Prove it,” the wealthy pureblood snarled.

“Oh, no one will be able to, Lucius. Not now that Lord Voldemort has been removed from the diary. However, it boggles the mind as to why he would entrust something of this level of power to someone who he bewitched, instead of someone who followed him of their own free will. Either way, I would suggest not handing out his old school objects, because if you do such a thing, and threaten my students again, I will utterly destroy you, and your family’s standing. Are we clear?”

Harry felt the raw power coming from the old Headmaster. He had a kindly smile, but his eyes were steely, like he was daring Lucius to say anything else.

“Dobby, we’re going!” Lucius barked, turning away from the three. Harry suddenly had an idea that would serve to humiliate the man even further

“Professor, may I return the diary to him?” Harry asked.

Dumbeldore had a knowing smile on his face. “Oh, please do, Harry. But do remember the feast. I’ll also alert the prefects that the lockdown has been lifted” Harry nodded, pulled off one of his socks, stuffed the diary inside, and sprinted after Draco’s father. “Mr. Malfoy, this belongs to you,” he said with the utmost sincerity, handing the filthy sock to him.

“How dare you!” the man growled, ripping the sock off. “You have no IDEA who you are insulting! One word from me, and you’ll be in Azkaban!” he spat. He flung the sock away in disgust. “I eagerly await the day when you meet the same end as your mudblood mother and blood-traitor father… Dobby! Come!”

“...Master has given Dobby a sock…” the Elf said.

“What?! I didn’t-” Lucius’ eyes widened, and saw Dobby holding Harry’s sock like a priceless gem.

“Dobby is free! Dobby is free!” Dobby cheered, tears of joy rolling down his face.

“You.. YOU TOOK MY SLAVE FROM ME YOU BRAT!” Lucius howled in fury, losing his composure at this final insult. Dobby snapped his fingers, and Lucius was thrown back.

“You… dare…”

“Dobby dares… Dobby also wants to try out several curses on his old master if his old master does not leave. NOW.” Lucius saw the downright vengeful look in the House Elf’s eyes, and briskly walked away, almost breaking into a run. When he was out of sight, Dobby turned to Harry in awe. “Great Harry Potter has freed Dobby! Dobby can never repay this debt!” the Elf exclaimed.

“Just… please don’t try to save my life again like you did this year,” Harry asked.

“Yes, yes! Dobby wouldn’t need to, either, now that Harry Potter has the basilisk on his side! Dobby wishes Harry Potter luck!” With another snap of his fingers, Dobby disappeared.

*****

Ginny let her parents bring her down to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey tut-tutted and settled her into a bed. Honestly, she didn’t really have the strength to fight it, or to disagree with her mother as she sobbed, “Ginny, how could you have been so  _ foolish _ ?” 

“I’m sorry, mom,” Ginny managed to croak, “I know I messed up.” 

“Hush, sweetie,” her father said soothingly, “you made a mistake, but you’re okay now. Just rest for a while.” 

Ginny would have, but honestly, her head was kind of a scary place right now. Huge sections of it felt like they had been...torn through, almost, like a clawed beast had ripped through the pages of a book, taking what it wanted and leaving destruction behind. And if Ginny closed her eyes, she could still see Tom’s face, hear his laughter as he dragged her into the Chamber. Ginny was a mess, basically. Wracked with guilt over the people she’d hurt, including _Harry’s friend._ He must hate her now, right? He’d barely looked at her on the...ride...up from the Chamber, even though he’d saved her life. As much as Ginny couldn’t help but feel her crush grow stronger, she also wondered if her foolishness in getting her brain hijacked by a Dark artifact had made her even _more_ useless in his eyes. And of course, now Ginny was lying helpless in a medical bed, barely able to move or think, with her parents staring down at her with sympathetic, pitying, _gentle_ eyes, telling her that _of course_ everything was going to be alright! It made her want to _scream_. Didn’t they know she was _guilty?_ She’d hurt all those people, been saved from being a murderer by _luck!_ Of course things weren’t going to be _alright!_ _She could still feel Tom in her head, laughing at her!_

Ginny knew he was gone, that he was Voldemort, that he’d nearly sucked her soul out until Harry had killed him with a sword like a hero from one of her stories. But his presence remained, in the shape of the holes in her memory, in the filth she felt on her soul, in the nightmares that snuck up on her every time she closed her eyes. All Ginny wanted right now was for someone to talk to her who didn’t  _ have _ to understand, who wasn’t obligated to love her. Maybe she could trust  _ them _ to tell her that things weren’t alright. 

Just then, she heard a low hissing, thrumming sound. Her skin prickled, hair standing up as a profound sense of  _ danger-danger-wrong-bad _ seemed to steal her thoughts away, good and bad. Her parents could feel it too, Ginny could tell; their eyes widened, they shifted uncomfortably. Her father stood, his eyes hardening until Ginny remembered that he’d fought in a war, once. 

Her mother asked, “What’s going on? Where’s that coming from?” 

“I don’t know,” Ginny’s father replied, “but I’m going to-“ 

“Mom, Dad, it’s okay,” Ginny said weakly as the prickling sensation got stronger and the hissing got louder, “she’s probably just upset, that’s all.” 

Her parents turned to her, their expressions full of concern. Her mother prompted, “Ginny, who’s causing this? Is this connected to what happened to...you?” Ginny shook her head, a move that was more tiring than it ever should have been. 

She assured her parents, “No, this is just...a friend of mine. Dad, could you get the door for her? She doesn’t like opening them.” 

“Why would someone dislike  _ doors?” _ her father wondered aloud, wrinkling his nose. He did what Ginny asked, though, pulling the large metal bolt aside and opening the door wide. He began, “Hello, can I help yo-“ 

“ **_Tell me where she is, worm. Now,”_ ** a voice commanded, a voice that sent shivers down Ginny’s spine.

It was ethereal and inhuman, lilting like music that humans should never have heard, burbling like water running in a brook. It was a thousand sounds and none of them, and it sent Arthur Weasley scrambling backwards, fumbling for his wand. He stammered, “W-whatever you are, get away!” 

The voice, whatever it was, didn’t even respond to him. Instead, the sound of footsteps (had there been footsteps before? If so, Ginny hadn’t heard them) echoed through the room, as the being the voice belonged to finally entered, revealing itself as… At first, Ginny could only focus on parts of the figure, thanks to her exhaustion and semi-consciousness. The figure was a young woman, Ginny’s age, slightly taller than Ginny with strawberry-blonde hair. That hair was currently floating, though, raised up in a staticky halo around her head, moving with no regard for wind or force. Raw magic radiated off of the girl, filling the room with an ominous air and the odd thrumming hiss that didn’t seem to come from her mouth, or be within the range of the human voice-yet it was a voice, it  _ had _ to be. Her blue eyes flashed and sparked with wild, untamed feeling, seemingly depicting a different disaster in each strangled heartbeat; a forest fire one second, a lightning storm the next, an icy blizzard after that. The girl’s eyes landed on Ginny, who smiled as widely as she could under the circumstances. The terrifying, menacing girl strode closer, ignoring Ginny’s mother. 

Slowly, she raised a hand, and Ginny could have sworn she saw tiny, fragmentary ripples trail from each finger, pure black at the center like a tiny black hole, a rip in the very fabric of reality that collapsed back in on itself as the girl moved. Her strange, turnip-like earrings spun helplessly in the forceful breeze the girl created with her very presence. At last, the girl was standing over Ginny. Ginny managed to look her in those endless, apocalyptic eyes, and smiled as she asked, “Hey, Luna, how’s it going?”


	11. Chapter 11

Ginny could feel her parents giving her looks of disbelief, but the redhead only had eyes for the girl in front of her, whose very presence seemed to send mad whispers into the ears of every person around.

Ginny’s closest friend replied in a voice like whispering thunder, “ **_You. Are you still walking among these fleeting beings?”_ **

“Yeah, Luna, I’m still alive,” Ginny confirmed, “I’m...not feeling so hot, though.” 

“ **_Your very soul is…mangled. I can taste its cries on my tongue,”_ ** Luna agreed with a nod as she sat down, the waves of magic coming off of her never slowing or relenting. 

Ginny rolled her eyes as Luna’s remarkably cold hand covered hers and replied, “Yeah, I know, I know, I’m sorry for not trusting you about the book.” 

“ **_I warned you,”_ ** Luna reminded her, “ **_I told you that it contained only darkness, and still you went looking. You are an insolent fool, and I will ensure that you experience a THOUSAND-_ **Ginny, I’m so glad you’re okay!” 

Ginny’s parents blinked in complete and utter confusion as, without warning, every bit of the terrifying aura disappeared from the blonde girl, and in an instant she resembled a perfectly normal Hogwarts first year, albeit one with exceptionally strange turnip-earrings and a slightly vacant stare. Ginny, however, didn’t seem to notice the shift at all. Instead, she told Luna, “I’m sorry. I’m...I’m just glad I’m still here. It was...really scary, Luna.” 

Luna nodded gently and reassuringly. Stroking Ginny’s hand with her own, she replied, “I’m glad you’re still here, too, Ginny. If you had died, I would have **_cursed your spirit to wander the endless netherworld for a thousand thousand years.”_ ** Molly and Arthur watched in existential confusion as their daughter threw her head back and laughed, as her bizarre, occasionally terrifying friend asked, “What? Was something I said funny?” The two Weasley parents exchanged a look, and agreed that some things were best left undiscussed. At least their daughter had a friend to help her through her healing.

*****

The Slytherin common room was humming with energy, even after McGonagall had ordered everyone out of the halls, ringing with sniggers and hushed conversations that everyone seemed to be engaged in. The mood was high, almost smug, as though they’d achieved something. In the middle of the room, Draco Malfoy held court, his circle of closest sycophants laughing around him as they praised the Heir.

“I tell you, they’ve finally done it!” Draco announced, “first the Mudbloods, now they’re gunning for blood traitors! Well done, well bloody done! I hope they go for the rest of the Weasleys next, or maybe that freaky spider girl Weasley’s fucking!”

Even upperclassmen laughed along, some out of genuine agreement, others out of fear. It was impossible to tell which was which, though; here, everyone’s face was schooled into perfect masks, expressions that could go blank in an instant. Nobody in this room thought they had anything to fear from the Heir, after all. Mudbloods and most half-bloods didn’t last long in Slytherin, and everyone who survived had unimpeachable (and inbred) bloodlines.

Daphne watched it all from her spot by the window, a place she’d claimed because it was quiet and she had her back to the wall. You never knew when someone would attack you, not in here. That was the way of the world, she supposed. Either you were the aggressor or the victim. And Daphne was _not_ a victim. She laughed along, as expected of a pureblood heiress of the Ancient House of Greengrass; maybe she even believed it. It fit with everything she’d ever learned, after all, the worldview she’d been shown for as long as she could remember.

But still, some tiny part of her held her back from losing herself in the mob. A voice whispered, _“Someone is dead, you monsters.”_

She quashed the voice, the weakness. Show any chink in your armor in Slytherin, and someone would find it. Show sympathy for blood traitors, Mudbloods, or lesser humanoids, and your life was almost certainly over.

At that moment, Tracey Davis slipped into the common room, having been in the library, further from the dungeons, when the lockdown went into effect. She quickly crossed the room to Daphne, her closest ally in the pit. (Not friend, Daphne reminded herself, Slytherins and pureblood heiresses didn’t have _friends.)_

Tracey slipped into the chair across the small table from Daphne, smiling lightly. That irritated Daphne. Tracey had always been bad at concealing her emotions; she was honestly not very good at the great political game that was Slytherin House. But she was reliable, and relatively trustworthy, and Daphne had known her since they were both children imagining sparks flying from their palms. Their families were close allies; if one of them had been male, there might have been talk of a betrothal. But as it was, they were a team, the closest thing to an ironclad relationship you could get in the world of pureblood politics.

“How bad is it out there?” Daphne asked the shorter girl.

Tracey frowned, gathering her thoughts for a second. She replied, “Bad. I ran into Snape patrolling the halls. He nearly hexed me when I accidentally snuck up on him. I don’t think they’ve found the Weasley girl or the Chamber yet.”

Daphne said, “What are the odds they find her alive, do you think?”

“Low, probably. Lockhart’s full of shit, at least Dumbledore would have had the strength to fight whatever Slytherin’s monster is,” Tracey answered, shaking her head grimly. 

Daphne looked around furtively; nobody appeared to have heard Tracey’s borderline heresy, they were too busy laughing as Draco impersonated one of the petrified victims. She hissed, “Trace, don’t say things like that! You _know_ Dumbledore is a traitor to everything Magical Britain should be!”

“Of course he is,” Tracey replied, “but you can’t deny the man has _power._ Even the Dark Lord was scared of him!”

“Be that as it may, you can’t just go around praising the man now that we’re finally rid of him,” Daphne told her, even as she suppressed her own wish that they had the capable, steady Dumbledore right now, “now, is there anything else you heard?” 

Information was power, and if there was one thing Daphne’s family had drilled into her head, it was that a true pureblooded witch always had to be ready to use whatever means available to improve her own standing. Knowing more about events outside of this room gave her an advantage over the others in her House.

Tracey slowly nodded and said, “Yeah, apparently Potter and the Weasley that’s always following him around are missing, too.”

“Off on a grand adventure to save Weasley’s sister, no doubt,” Daphne decided, “who knows, maybe they’ll find another subhuman for them to add to their collection.”

Tracey let out an undignified snort and added, “Knowing them, they’ll win somehow, too.”

“Please, they’re second years up against _Slytherin’s Monster,”_ Daphne laughed, “only an incredibly powerful wizard could even _hope_ to defeat something Salazar Slytherin himself placed in the castle to keep it pure.”

Daphne would’ve _sworn_ she heard a male voice screaming in frustration. 

“You’re right, they’ll just end up monster meat,” Tracey agreed. At that moment, the door opened to reveal one of the Slytherin prefects, a minor pureblood from a house Daphne didn’t remember.

“Professor Snape sent me here to tell you that the lockdown has been lifted, effective immediately,” the black-haired boy announced. Instantly, a clamor arose, with dozens of students yelling questions at the stoic prefect.

Over the chaos, Draco Malfoy called, “Savage, what the bloody hell are you talking about? What about Slytherin’s monster?”

The prefect, Savage, answered, “Apparently, _Potter_ defeated it. The blood traitor is still alive, too.”

“How the _fuck_ did he do that?” Draco demanded.

“I’ll be damned if I know!” Savage shouted back, “all I’m sure of is that Professor Snape called me into his office, and on my way here, I saw Potter walking through the halls with a giant fucking snake woman wrapped around him!”

Savage sneered as he said “Potter,” like a true pureblood should. It was something Daphne had always struggled with; something about the boy had just made him...hard to hate. He’d looked so scared, early that first year, like his whole world had changed. Daphne could never find the hatred in her heart necessary for that sneer. And now that scared, skinny boy had defeated a monster that had driven _Dumbledore himself_ from the castle, and apparently bent it to his will.

As the whole world (or at least, Daphne’s world) descended into chaos, Tracey turned to her and asked, “What do we do now, Daph?”

Daphne’s mind started to race, considering their next course of action. If Potter really was powerful enough to defeat a monster like that, then that tipped the scales in the political landscape dramatically. Nobody in Slytherin could match that, and whoever found a way to even the odds again would hold significant influence.This was an opportunity, and Daphne had always been good at seizing those. If she found some sort of asset that could equal whatever Potter’s capabilities were, then Daphne could use that strength to benefit her family. That was the other primary law that Daphne had had burned into her from the moment she was old enough to speak, the goal of all pureblood heirs. _Family comes first; your family is everything._

Daphne leaned in close so that only Tracey could hear her and said, “Alright, Trace. I have an idea.”

“What’s the idea?” Tracey asked.

Smirking, Daphne replied, “If it works, you’ll see.” She had some work to do.

*****

Harry had seen Hogwarts feasts before, but nothing like this. For one, everyone was in their pajamas. For another, everyone was talking to their unpetrified friends. Harry had been glomped by a sprinting Hermione, frantically crying with joy that he solved the riddle. Justin had come over to his table and apologized profusely at accusing him of benign the heir. And then, just when things couldn’t get any better, Hagrid arrived. He was in tears as he seemed to drink in the surroundings. He then, crying with joy, gave Harry and Ron a bone crushing hug.

“Arry! Ron! I’m so glad you listened to me! I’m gonna go see Arragog after this!” he bawled. Ron decided against telling him right then and there about his engagement. Speaking of…

“Harry… where’s Bella?” he asked.

“She went to our dormitory. Why?”

“Ari is there, Harry.”

Harry facepalmed. “I made a big mistake, didn’t I?”

Before they could say anything else, Dumbedore cleared his throat. “May I have your attention, please?” he called. All of the students stopped to look at him. “First of all, thank you, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Potter, for ending the attacks. Now, we’re only a few days from exams, and the OWLs and NEWTs have been taken… but in light of the joyous events of today, the exams for the rest of the years are cancelled!” There was a massive amount of cheering from the school, save the Slytherins, and Hermione, who looked distraught. Draco looked like a present had been snatched from him. If Harry had to guess, he had been hoping to see Hermione fail.

“Additionally, Professor Lockhart has decided to retire, citing an existential crisis,” Dumbledore added. He left out the fact that he had seen the Professor setting his makeup kit on fire, ripping up his books, and cursing like a sailor. He also didn’t mention Lockhart promising to go to Albania after his crisis was over. The man would have made an _incredible_ member of the Order, and with Voldemort still out there...well, Dumbledore was glad to have such a capable fighter on his side.

“Shame, Lockhart was growing on me,” Ron mused. “Thought he’d last another year… wonder who Dumbeldore will get next year?”

“A vampire?” Harry joked.

*****

After the feast was over, Harry and Ron rushed up to their dormitory. They were met by a bunch of worried Gryffindors. “Ron… what’s going on in there?!” Neville exclaimed. Ron opened the door, finding Ari, in Drider form, clinging to the ceiling. Bella was on the floor.

“Please come down! I won’t hurt you!” the basilisk lamia pleaded.

“Noooooo!” Ari wailed, flinging webbing at her. “Stay back! Go away!” she begged.

At Harry and Ron’s entrance, Bella turned to them. “I’m sorry! She took one look at me and she won’t come down!” she bawled. “I’m not a monster! I promise!” she sobbed, curling around Harry.

Ron stepped in. “Hey, Ari… you can come down now,” he told her.

“But… basilisk!” she complained.

“Bella isn’t going to hurt you, Ari,” Ron countered.

“Are you sure!?” Ari asked, trembling.

“I’m positive. If you want, I’ll give you a kiss-” Ari was down within five seconds, towering over Ron, thanks to still being in drider form. She then turned into her mostly human form. “Welp, a deal’s a deal,” Ron said, kissing her on the lips. Ari’s tongue played with his, and he tried to ignore the pincers, his magic singing at the proximity, while the portion of his brain not flooding with hormones was freaking out at kissing a girl. Eventually, they separated. “Now then. Harry, will you help me introduce Bella to Ari?”

*****

Hermione was having trouble adjusting. First of all, the morning after the party, she found herself staring into poison-green eyes, belonging to a woman with some of the largest breasts she had ever seen. What really caught her eyes, though, was that the woman was snake from the waist down. “I'm so, so sorry,” the snake woman said, bowing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you…” she sniffled.

Hermione made the connection in five seconds. “You’re the basilisk,” she said. Bella meekly nodded. Most wizards would start screaming in fear. Hermione wasn’t most wizards. “What the fuck?” she calmly asked. Well, tried to ask. Bella was still saying how sorry she was, before darting out of her dormitory, softly crying. Well, she’d have to get answers from Harry or Ron. Turning the basilisk that had been attacking students into a Lamia was either their doing or Fred and Geroge’s idea of a “welcome back” prank. Thus, she went to the common room.

When Hermione walked into the Gryffindor common room, she expected a lot of things.

The sense of comfort and coming _home_ was one of them; for whatever reason, the cat in her had marked something about this place as safe, and returning to it after so long away felt like letting out a deep breath. 

Honestly, Hermione was adapting to those cat instincts a lot better than she thought she would be. Back before she was petrified, they would scream in her head and try to overwhelm her _constantly,_ but now they sat comfortably in the back of her mind, barely distinguishable from the rest of her thoughts. Maybe spending some time in what was basically a magical coma had helped her mind settle a little.

Hermione’s expectations were _apparently_ based on outdated information, though, because when she walked into the common room to cheers and smiles, her eyes instantly landed on her friends. Harry was in the corner, talking to a sad-looking Bella, who had coiled herself into a ball, hiding her face with her tail as she hung her head. Harry knelt gently by her, but his words were too soft even for Hermione’s cat ears to pick up.

Then, of course, there was Ron, who was currently getting the life snogged out of him by a woman Hermione had never seen before in her life. _“Huh, that’s new. Since when did Ron have a girlfriend?”_ Hermione wondered. Hermione couldn’t see the girl’s face at the moment, but she definitely wasn’t ugly, with long black hair that seemed to shimmer as she moved, milk-white skin, and a body that made Hermione just a _little_ envious.

Hermione may not have been romantically interested in Ron (Merlin bless him, but loud, slightly dumb, and unquestionably loyal was just _not_ her type) so the pang she felt in her stomach watching him getting kissed like the girl was trying to suck his _soul_ out wasn’t jealousy, exactly. It was more like...a reminder that _her_ crush wasn’t likely to look twice at her. Hermione chanced a look over at where Harry was still soothing Bella. Seeing his shining green eyes and dark hair always made her heart do a flip, as much as she told herself that crushing on a friend wasn’t going to end well.

Shaking herself to dismiss the thought, Hermione walked closer to Ron, who was finally pulling away from the girl. Loud enough to get his attention, she said, “Hello, Ron. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

Ron jumped, turning to give her a sheepish, surprised look. His face was as red as his hair when he replied, “Oh, hey, Hermione! I...kinda don’t have a girlfriend, exactly…” Hermione raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms; she could feel her whiskers twitching with a mix of amusement and confusion.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said dryly, “I forgot about your well-known habit of snogging random women like you’re a soldier coming back from war to a loving wife.”

“Erm, about that…” Ron trailed off, looking even more uncomfortable as the girl finally began to turn to look at Hermione.

“About what?” Hermione asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

It wasn’t Ron who responded, though. Instead, the girl announced cheerily, “Actually, I _am_ his wife!”

Hermione felt her jaw drop; her brain screeched to a halt as she tried and failed to process the girl’s words. She turned to look at Ron for confirmation. When he nodded quietly, Hermione had to take a second to confirm that she wasn’t still in a Petrification coma. At least THOSE dreams made SOME sense. Also, she was able to control them-it had been quite fun to become Catzilla.

She took several deep breaths, and eventually managed to find her voice again.

“I see,” Hermione said in a remarkably calm voice, “mind telling me how _that_ happened? Because unless you’re all playing a prank on me and I’ve been out _way_ longer than I thought I was, you were very much _not_ married a few weeks ago. That’s not quite enough time for a whirlwind romance, I feel.”

Ron blushed even harder as he admitted, “It was kind of an accident.”

“How do you _accidentally_ get married?” Hermione asked, her voice cracking just a little.

“By being stupid, apparently,” Ron muttered. Hermione was glad he was finally accepting who he was, but it wasn’t getting her any closer to the answers she _really_ needed right now.

Luckily, the girl explained, “I told my mom he looked cute, and she agreed not to kill and eat them if I married him!”

Hermione blinked. Okay, scratch being lucky, that just made everything _more_ confusing.

Then, as the girl smiled at Ron, Hermione saw the _very not human_ mouth parts just inside her rosy pink lips, and the pitch-black eyes with no pupils. Suddenly, things made...well, not _more_ sense, but they didn’t make _less_ sense, which was about all Hermione could really ask for at this point.

“You’re an Acromantula, aren’t you...I’m sorry, what’s your name?” Hermione asked.

“Ariana. Please, call me Ari,” the girl replied, “and yes, yes I am.”

Hermione nodded, then looked back at Ron, who had an expression filled with more regret than someone who had drawn the ire of Fred and George. “How?” was all she could get out.

“It’s a long story,” Ron replied.

“Ronald Weasley, you are the biggest arachnophobe I have _ever_ met, and you married yourself off to an _acromantula._ If it _wasn’t_ a long story, I’d be convinced you were cursed,” Hermione told him.

Ron snorted, but whether it was at Hermione’s words or the idea that his life could get any _more_ cursed, even _he_ wasn’t sure. He muttered, “You don’t know the half of it.”

Hermione’s ears pricked as she caught the words. Sweetly, she asked, “Oh? What don’t I know? Is this somehow _weirder_ that I thought it was?”

“Well, Ari’s kinda...royalty?” Ron replied, his voice making it sound like a question.

Hermione fought to keep her face neutral as she turned to Ari for confirmation. The girl nodded, her jet-black eyes twinkling as her inhuman mouth twitched into what might have been a smile. She added, “I’m the one hundred and twenty-seventh daughter of Queen Aragog, the last Acromantula Queen in Britain!”

“Cool,” Hermione replied. Turning back to Ron, she said, “So, let me get this straight.”

Ron watched quietly as Hermione raised her hand, ticking items off her clawed fingers as she went. The tabby girl began, “You, Ron Weasley, married a spider girl.”

Ron nodded quietly.

“But not just _any_ spider girl,” Hermione continued, _“no,_ that would be too simple for Ron Bloody Weasley. Instead, you married a _spider princess.”_

“Yep, that about sums it up,” Ron croaked. His hand wrapped around Ari’s waist and drew her tight, so casually he didn’t even seem to notice. She certainly did, though, smiling and letting her slender arms drape over his shoulders.

Hermione sighed deeply, wondering why these idiots were the best friends a girl could have. She told Ron, “You are somehow both the luckiest _and_ unluckiest man in the world.”

Ron snorted, but didn’t dispute it. It was kinda hard to, when he was currently being cuddled by a gorgeous woman who also happened to have the eyes and mouth of a spider.

Even though she _really_ didn’t want to deal with anything else in her first day not being Petrified again, Hermione asked, “So, other than, you know, _getting married,_ what did you and Harry get up to while I was out?”

Ron gestured helplessly at the pile of dejected basilisk in the corner and the Boy Who Lived who was trying to cheer her up. “Did you not notice the lamia in the room?” he wondered.

“I did,” Hermione admitted, “but if I think too hard about it, I’m going to go insane, so I’ll just stay over here with you and your cute spider wife, if that’s okay.”

“She is _not_ cute,” Ron muttered. When Ari heard it, her pout and the sadness in her dark eyes had Ron stumbling over his words trying to make up for it.

When Ari had been placated with reassurances that she _was,_ in fact, the cutest acromantula in Hogwarts (and the only one, but Ron wisely didn’t mention that part,) he turned back to Hermione with a look on his face that had her dreading his words.

Ron said, “Well, other than Bella and Ari showing up...I kinda rewrote reality to make Lockhart not a prat anymore.”

Hermione blinked once. Then twice. She would have blinked a third time, but before she could, she demanded, “You _what?”_

“I rewrote reality,” Ron repeated, “Lockhart was trying to Obliviate me and Harry-oh, he does that to all the people he stole his stories from, by the way, the bloke was a thief as well as a prat-and he tried to use my wand to do it. He ended up getting knocked out by the explosion when my wand disintegrated, and when he woke up he was a totally different person.”

“I see,” Hermione replied quietly, “that’s...okay, then. There’s about a _million_ things I’d like to say to that, but most of them boil down to _“How,” “Why,”_ and _“What the fuck?”_

Ron shrugged again-his shoulders were really getting a good workout today-while Ari giggled and muttered seductively into Ron’s ear, “Only the strongest wizards are capable of appealing to Magic herself like that. Acromantulas _love_ when their mates have such _strength.”_

Hermione wasn’t sure if she was gagging or if there was a hairball in her mouth, but she supposed it really didn’t matter. Before Ron could get seduced by an _acromantula_ of all things, she coughed loudly and said, “Man, why do you guys get to have all the weird stuff happen to you?”

“Says the girl who permanently made herself half cat,” Ron countered.

“Fair,” Hermione admitted after a moment of hesitation over actually telling Ron he had a point, “but seriously, next you’re gonna tell me that the Founders showed up or something!”

The way Ron winced really should have been the cue for Hermione to leave. Instead, though, she froze and asked, “What’s with that reaction, Ron?”

“Um, about what you said…” he mumbled, rubbing his head with his free hand.

Hermione’s blood ran cold. “Don’t,” she whispered softly, “please, don’t.”

But alas, Ron finished, “According to Harry...they kinda _did?_ Their ghosts, at least. Apparently they’re Bella’s adopted parents.”

Hermione’s face was frozen for what felt like an hour. She didn’t say a word, didn’t react or respond in any way. Ron and Ari just shared a look, one that ended with them agreeing that today was just _not_ anyone’s day.

When Hermione finally unfroze, she wasn’t angry or shocked or even really surprised. Instead, she just looked like her higher brain functions had shut down in order to stop thinking about the _weirdness_ that was going on today. Quietly, she announced, “I’m…gonna go upstairs and scream into a pillow for a few hours.”

“Why?” Ari asked, tilting her head in confusion.

“Because the pillow isn’t going to turn into a pillow-woman _or_ make me wonder if everything I’ve read in _Hogwarts: A History_ is a lie,” Hermione replied stiffly.

Ron nodded sagely. “That’s fair,” he decided, “I’ll let you know when Harry talks Bella round.”

“Don’t,” Hermione requested, “if I think about the fact that I got Petrified by a snake with bigger tits than me any more, I might actually Obliviate myself.”

“...I don’t think anyone ever expected to have to say that,” Ron answered. “I can’t even think of anything more weird!”

“Draco turning into a girl?” Harry asked, walking over with Bella still wrapped around him.

“... Not weird enough…” Ron replied.

“Draco turning into a girl and falling for you?” Harry snarked. Bella chuckled a little.

“Impossible, but not _too_ weird.”

“Draco turning into a girl, falling for you, and you impregnating her?” Harry said, unable to hold in his laughter after saying that. Ron wasn’t able to either.

“OK, THAT’S weirder! And the most impossible thing I’ve ever heard of!” Ron chortled.

*****

June continued, and the slow march towards the end of term drew nearer. Harry was getting nervous, like he had last year. Would the Dursleys lock him in his room again and try to literally starve him? He was brought out of his musings when he felt something large wrap itself around him.

“Are you alright, master?” Bella asked, worried about him.

“No… no I’m not,” he admitted.

“It’s about going back, isn’t it?” Ron asked, munching on some toast. Ari was snuggled up next to him as well. Snape was walking around the tables, keeping discipline. Harry could hear some of the slytherins talking loudly about betrothals. “You don’t want to go back to the Muggles, do you?”

Harry shook his head, piling more food onto his plate. Hopefully he could gain another pound or two. It might last him another week. “Master, you’re eating too much!” Bella protested. “It’s not healthy! You could gain too much weight!”

“I’d lose it all over the summer, Bella,” Harry promised. Snape had a confused look on his face.

“Hey, Harry… if you don’t mind me asking… do the Muggles let you out for water?”

“I have to wait for when I can use the bathroom or the hose when I’m watering Aunt Petunia’s flowers,” Harry admitted. At hearing that, Snape’s eyes widened, and the man stormed off.

Bella hissed with anger. “They won’t touch you!” she growled, coiling around him even more. She was shimmering, like she’d turn into her normal form. “I won’t let them!”

“As much as I’d like them to be met with an angry Lamia, you can’t. That’d breach the Statute of Secrecy,” Ron replied.

“The what?” Bella asked, cocking her head.

Ron sighed. “The edict that made Wizarding society go underground. Muggles don’t know we exist anymore, and all references regarding us are treated as fairy tales. It’s been that way since the late seventeenth century. As much as I’d love for Harry to have you to protect him… there’s no way in hell that you’d be allowed to go.”

Bella hugged Harry tighter. “C-can Harry stay here? I promise to protect him! T-there’s a clause that allows students in abusive homes to l-live at Hogwarts!” she pleaded, eyes filled with tears.

This time, it was Heromione who shook her head. “According to Hogwarts: A History, that clause was revoked following the implementation of the Statute of Secrecy. If children just vanished, people would get suspicious,” she explained.

Ron nodded. “Short of Dumbledore stepping in, absolutely nothing can help Harry, Bella. Believe me, we’ve tried.”

Bella kept trying to protest, determined not to let Harry return to the Dursleys, but Harry himself didn’t seem very interested in the conversation anymore. In his head, he was wondering how he could possibly go back, now that he was finally at home in the magical world. He might have accepted returning anyway, though, if something inside him didn’t shatter every time he saw Bella struggle with her return to the world. He couldn’t leave Bella alone. Whatever happened, he would find a way, for her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Le discord: https://discord.gg/yS9bCwj

Albus was sitting at his desk, looking over reports and snacking on Every Flavor Beans, when there was a vicious, angry knock at his door. Before he could even move to open it or say a word, the door was nearly blown off its hinges as Severus Snape burst through, black cloak billowing behind him. Snape’s face was red, and he was breathing hard, as if he’d run all the way here; or perhaps that was just the all-consuming fury that was plain on his face. His eyes glowed with rage, in a way Albus couldn’t remember seeing in a very,  _ very  _ long time.

“DID YOU KNOW?” Snape yelled as he stormed forward, magic crackling off him, sending the sensitive devices along the walls into fits.

Albus could only stare in shock, left confused and off-guard. He began, “Severus, what are you talking abou-”

Before he could finish, Snape interrupted in a low voice like a dangerous wind,  _ “Did. You. Know?” _

“Know what?” Albus asked honestly, all the mystery and airs he put on stripped away by genuine surprise.

Snape held Albus’s gaze for a long second, and apparently satisfied that he didn’t actually know, let out a deep breath; it did little to change the anger visible in every line of his body.    
After a moment, Snape said curtly, “Potter is being  _ abused _ by his relatives.”

Albus felt his eyes go wide; if he hadn’t been sitting down, he would have rocked back on his heels in surprise. He asked, “Are you certain? How do you know?”

Snape replied, “I overheard the boy admitting it to his friends in the Great Hall. They deny him food, water…work him like a slave. He’s terrified of going back.”

Something about the way Snape’s voice rang with total certainty made Albus sure of what he was being told; he didn’t even need Legilimency to back it up. And suddenly, so many things about the boy made…too much sense. Skinny, jumpy, acted genuinely shocked when shown basic kindness or confronted with people who valued him…

How hadn’t he seen it? Merlin’s beard, Albus knew  _ personally  _ what the symptoms of such neglect looked like, thanks to…her. His first mistake, his first failure…but far from his last.

All of a sudden, the guilt struck him like the Hogwarts Express. This was  _ his fault.  _ He was the one who had entrusted Harry to them, who had plotted and schemed and tried to ensure that the Boy Who Lived would grow up surrounded by his own blood. He’d wanted Harry to be safe, yes…but that wasn’t  _ safety.  _ What else could he do, though? How else could he make sure that Harry wouldn’t end up like…

Seeing Albus deep in thought, Snape snapped, “You  _ better  _ be thinking of ways to get him out of there, and not of ways to make me  _ think  _ you will.”

Surprised, Albus’s hands dropped from his beard as he turned back towards the former Death Eater. “You seem awfully animated about this, considering how much you loathe the boy,” he observed.

Snape, clearly still in the grips of his anger, demanded, “What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean? That I should be  _ glad _ a child is being abused? That a half-blood’s family doesn’t…doesn’t  _ want  _ him?” 

  
Albus squinted at Snape as the younger man faltered for a moment, seemingly lost in memories.

“Severus, please tell me you’re not doing this solely because it’s Lily’s sister,” he said softly, “you know as well as I do that you  _ have  _ to let go of the past, before it destroys you-”

Snape’s eyes exploded with light and fire as he surged forwards, slamming his fists into the desk hard enough to shake the ground as well. He roared,  _ “THIS ISN’T ABOUT LILY, DAMNIT!” _

In the aftermath of the sudden outburst, there was dead silence in the room, like a moment when the sun broke through heavy gray clouds. Two men stared at each other, one panting with rage and the effort of casting off nearly two decades of calcified grief and hate, the other with tear-filled eyes.

Catching his breath, Snape rasped, “This isn’t about Lily, or-or Petunia, or any of it. This is about that  _ fucking  _ boy, because we failed him.”

Albus shook his head softly, gently. “No, Severus,” he corrected,  _ “I  _ failed him. The fault is mine, and mine alone.”

“Oh, because  _ you’re  _ the one who starves him and beats him,” Snape scoffed dismissively.

Albus closed his eyes, sighing; he knew that assigning guilt and blame would get them nowhere, would accomplish nothing.

More softly, Snape said, “Look. I still don’t like the boy, but…he is still a  _ student.  _ I will not let another gifted young man be ruined by his childhood. We  _ need _ to intervene.”

  
Albus almost laughed at that, at the truth Severus had spoken without realizing it. How much did Albus know about exactly that sort of evil? How much light had it cost the world, cost  _ him?  _ Gellert…Tom…even Albus himself, he supposed. He  _ refused  _ to let Harry join that grim list.

But even so…he hesitated. Getting Harry away from that Muggle family was the right thing to do, on the surface…but the blood protection, the magic, the  _ prophecy  _ all depended on that Merlin-damned family. Would a small kindness create a larger evil?

Snape watched Albus hesitate, and told him, “If you don’t fix this,  _ I will.  _ And then you’ll be down one Potions teacher, because I’ll be in Azkaban.”

Albus exhaled slowly, letting his thoughts settle. Yes, he’d done all this for a prophecy… but it wasn’t as if Divination was a reliable tool. And besides, how many times could he put off a small good act in service of larger ones, before those larger goods were too distant, and “later” became “never?” At last, Albus opened his eyes, and raised his head to look Severus Snape in the eye. “You’re right,” he agreed, “Harry cannot return to that place. But where else can he go?”

Seeing that the first and hardest battle had been won, Snape began to pace the room, his thoughts outspeeding his feet. “It has to be someone who won’t use him as free publicity,” he decided, “which cuts out…well, basically ninety percent of the Wizarding World, and most of the other ten percent is Death Eaters anyway.”

Albus made a small sound of agreement. He added, “They’ll need to be able to accommodate a basilisk as well. I doubt that that lamia intends to go anywhere without young Harry.” 

Snape nodded. He responded, “The Weasleys, maybe? One more redhead will blend right in.”

Albus chuckled. “It’ll have to be,” he agreed, “I’ll talk to Molly and Arthur as soon as I get the chance.”

  
Snape nodded, satisfied. With one last nod and a farewell, he left, black cloak swishing behind him as he disappeared through the door. Once again, Albus was alone with his thoughts, and his guilt. Resting his head in his hands, the greatest wizard in modern Britain fought back tears, remembering another time, when he’d failed so terribly, it had torn his own family apart.

Albus Dumbledore had failed so much, so many times. But maybe he didn’t have to fail Harry Potter any more than he already had.

*****

Harry, Ron, Bella, and Hermione were hanging out in the courtyard. Bella was enjoying her basking. Harry would pet her head, and she’d purr. He’d then scratch Hermione’s head, and she’d purr as well. Ron would just chuckle at Harry’s divided attention. He was also a bit worried for the future. He figured Hermione had a crush on Harry. While Harry didn’t know, he could tell. Perhaps it came with always reading faces, so as to make sure Fred and George weren’t planning on pranking him. Bella also showed admiration and affection, which worried him. Love triangles never ended well. And when one of them was a powerful creature… well… that was just asking for trouble. Either way, things would certainly get really interesting next year. Ron shuddered at that. Literally everyone knew what happened in third year. It would be incredibly unlikely that Ari wouldn’t be pregnant by next summer, or already have given birth once. What surprised him was that the idea of his spider wife carrying his children wasn’t disgusting in his mind. He also wondered how his parents would react to him making them grandparents… so far, none of his older brothers had settled down with a family. ‘Then again, none accidentally got themselves married to royalty,’ he thought to himself. And speaking of the future, he saw Snape walking towards the group. He wasn’t just walking. He was power-walking, with a grim smirk on his face. Now, had it been the beginning of the year, Ron was worried that Snape was cooking up some boneheaded reason for Harry to be expelled. However, the man had changed (for the better, as 3/4ths of the school thought) over the past year.

“Potter. Weasley. Come with me,” he instructed. Harry stopped scratching Hermione’s ears, which caused her to meow in complaint, before turning beet red. “I understand the reluctance to stop petting cats. Minerva was quite vocal in her displeasure as well,” Snape added. “Follow me.” With that, he started walking towards the castle. Harry and Ron looked at each other. “Potter, feel free to bring your girlfriend and willing servant,” he added. Hermione blushed at that. Harry almost did as well, but didn’t. He did glance at Hermione, however, whose tail was twitching. Snape led them towards Dumbledore’s office. “Hershey’s,” he said. The griffon moved aside, and, once again, the staircase was there. Snape led them up the stairs, before opening the door. “Albus, I do believe that you should explain everything,” Snape said, leaving. “And no, you’re on your own.”

*****

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Bella looked at Dumbledore. Harry was surprised at how… old Dumbledore looked. He had always looked old, with his white beard and whatnot… but now, he looked… tired. His wrinkles were far more pronounced, his eyes were drooping, and he seemed to be slightly trembling. In all honesty, it worried Harry.

“Sit down, Harry,” Dumbledore said. Harry did so.

“Sir, what’s this all about?” Harry inquired, nervous.

“It’s about you, Harry. It’s about how I have utterly failed you,” he admitted.

“...Sir?”

“Do you know why you live where you live, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

“...Because they’re my closest living relatives?” Harry hesitantly answered.

“...No, that’s not the reason. The reason stems back to why Professor Quirrel couldn’t touch you. It all depends on your mother’s protection. The ward she gave you depends on familiar blood. Thus… I made one of the greatest mistakes of my life,” Dumbledore said. “Hagrid told you that he brought you to the Dursleys, but it was I who told him to. I understand that you might hate me, and I would not fault you for it.”

“I don’t hate you, sir. I just want to know why you put me there,” Harry said.

“As I said, it’s because of Lily’s protection, which I will call ‘blood wards’, require familial blood. Thus, I had you taken in by your aunt and uncle. I left them a note, explaining the situation, after placing powerful wards and warming charms over you. The note explained what had happened, and requested that she show the same love Lily would have should they have befallen the same fate. I trusted in her sister to have basic human decency… and I was wrong. And you, Harry, paid the price for it. However, for the blood wards to work, you have to spend some time each year there to maintain them, until you reach 17. It’s the best defense you have… or had,” he said.

Harry felt hope spark in his chest. “S-sir?” he stammered.

“Thanks to this chain of events, you have enlisted the services of a fiercely loyal basilisk. While not as guaranteed as a zone of denial, having one of the most powerful creatures in existence guarding you is a close second, and I daresay you’ll be much happier,” Dumbledore answered. “That brings up the question of lodging, though.”

Harry’s mind was looping, as tears of joy began to well up in his eyes. “Y-y-you mean I won’t h-have to go back?” he whispered, sounding like a small child.

Dumbledore mentally ran through every curse he knew that caused pain but would baffle muggle authority that wasn’t the cruciatus curse. “Yes, Harry. You won’t have to go back.”

The dam broke. Harry collapsed out of his chair, crying tears of joy. Bella coiled around him, offering soothing words. “Gone… t-they’re gone…” Harry whimpered, snuggling into her coils. Bella gave him a snake hug, and soon all that anyone would see of Harry was his black hair, occasionally shaking from muffled sobs of relief.

Ron turned to the Headmaster. “So, what was that about lodging?” he requested, and Bella soothed Harry by rubbing her hand through his hair.

“Harry has to live somewhere, after all. Severus has helped narrow down the preferred lodging. Harry shouldn’t go to someone who will live off of his fame, and, of course, he cannot, under any circumstance, be allowed to live with those who show… similar views to Lord Voldemort,” Dumbledore said. Ron and Hermione flinched. Dumbledore was happy that Harry didn’t. “Thus, Severus pointed out a simple solution, one I think would benefit everyone,” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “Harry, would you like to live with the Weasleys?”

There was silence. “Harry?” Ron asked.

“...This is a dream. I’m going to wake up in my bed, pack my bags, and go back to the Dursleys,” he sniffled. Ron reached over and pinched him. “T-thanks Ron… d-d-does that mean… this is really happening? T-that I’m going to live with you?” He stammered. Ron nodded.

“You’re NEVER going back to those brutes, Harry. Not on my watch,” Ron promised, patting him on the head. Harry sighed contentedly, still wrapped in Bella’s coils.

“Miss Granger, I daresay that I shall have to inform your parents of your transformation into a human-cat hybrid… or have they paid any attention to manga?” he inquired, eyes twinkling with mirth.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Oh no! I never told them the specifics, just that there was a small accident in potions and everything was fine!” she announced. “And I can’t just claim that these are fake, either!” she shouted, pointing to her ears. She was also beginning to breathe rapidly.

“I presume you are not one for cosplay,” Dumbledore guessed, causing Hermione to start. “And it would be strange for you to suddenly seem into it that much, boarding school or not,” he added. “Miss Granger, I know that you are still raw over your transformation. You have suffered immensely over the year, and, as much as I loathe to admit it, you will likely suffer longer. You will have many trials and hardships, but I have no doubt that those who stand against you will be cast aside like friendships after a blue shell,” Dumbledore said. “And as for why I have this level of trust? You are the brightest witch of our age, Hermione Granger. You will be able to rise above those who try to cast you down due to their own insecurities. Of this, I have no doubt.”

Hermione nodded, thankful that Dumbledore had said those encouraging things to her, and a little surprised at the Mario Kart reference. “T-thank you sir,” she said.

“Now, Mr. Weasley, you should probably tell your parents about this development,” Dumbledore suggested. Ron nodded as well. “I will write a letter to your… former guardians, Harry,” Dumbledore announced, the air pressure multiplying fivefold. “And I will express my… disappointment… and how I found their lack of love disturbing,” he added, subtly clenching his fists. With that, the group left, leaving Dumbledore alone in his office. 

After they had left, and he was alone, his magic lashed out in every direction. Normally, he kept his feelings under wraps. It wouldn't do to frighten anyone. But now that he was alone… he could vent. He screamed in sheer, undying loathing. Not at the Dursleys, but at himself. He should’ve done MORE to help Harry. He should’ve SEEN the signs! For Merlin’s sake it couldn’t have been more obvious then if Child Protection Services had walked right up to the castle! Then, he stopped, his eyes wide in horror. “Did… did I willingly turn a blind eye?” he squeaked. “Did I willingly send him back to that hell because of the prophecy?” he whispered to himself. The thought made him collapse to the floor, and vomit. It took him three minutes to get back up. Thankfully, the floor didn't show his reflection. It would’ve likely shown Grindelwald, mouthing ‘For the Greater Good’. Shakily, he clawed his way to his desk. “I’ll make this right, Harry… I’ll make this right,” he promised.

*****

That night, Dumbledore was sitting in his office. He was going over his paperwork. One of the requests, which was in VERY poor taste received a troll face as a signature. Fawkes had already delivered it before he had caught himself. Shrugging, he continued. Minerva had filed for a cat scratcher (under the identity of a sixth year Ravenclaw… again). Honestly, why couldn’t his deputy Headmistress just… buy one? Flitwick was calling for himself to be the head of the Dueling club that Lockhart had set up. Of course, he would accept that… with safety precautions, of course. Professor Kettleburn was retiring, apparently, to ‘spend time with his remaining limbs’... well, Dumbledore was tempted to replace that with ‘remaining limb’, since half of his leg probably didn’t count. As for his replacement… Dumbledore positively giggled at the sheer level of horror the Ministry would experience after he put a Half-Giant in the position… and then, he threw back his head and laughed aloud as the PERFECT Defence teacher came to mind… hopefully Severus had truly moved on. Before he could continue, Fawkes came in, carrying a letter. That made him nervous. The phoenix never carried letters to him, unless they were VERY important. He saw the color, and almost screamed. It was a howler.

“Fawkes… you know what to do with howlers…” Dumbledore cautioned. Namely, he ate them. The burning made the fiery bird pleasantly tingly. In response, Fawkes placed it on his desk. “Oh no…” he gasped. “No, no, no, no…” The howler showed a name he feared: Molly Weasley. And sure enough, his fears were confirmed. The howler rose to the air, and his nightmares began.

“ALBUS PERCIVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE! I TRUST YOU WITH THE SAFETY OF MY ENTIRE FAMILY, AND WHAT DID YOU DO!? YOU PLACED HARRY IN A HOME WITH ABUSIVE RELATIVES!? WHEN MY CHILDREN SHOWED UP WITH HARRY THIS SUMMER CLAIMING THEY HAD USED THEIR FATHER’S CAR TO RESCUE HIM, I THOUGHT THEY WERE EXAGGERATING, AND SCOLDED THEM! HAD I KNOWN THAT THEY WERE BEING COMPLETELY ACCURATE I WOULD’VE SCOLDED THEM FOR NOT TAKING ME WITH THEM!”

Dumbledore knew that if they had, Molly would probably be charged with two counts of usage of the killing curse and the cruciatus curse. It wasn’t like she wasn’t capable. The Death Eaters had attacked the Burrow when her kids were young, and she had a TRIPLE digit body count by the end of the night. 

“RON HAS TOLD ME THAT YOU ARE PUTTING HIM WITH ME, AND I WILL LOVE AND CARE FOR HIM! I WILL BE THE MOTHER HE HAD BEEN DENIED, AND IF YOU SO MUCH AS BREATHE IN THE DIRECTION OF RETURNING HIM TO THAT HELL… you know what I do to those who hurt my children…” With that, the howler burst into flames, and Fawkes cheerfully devoured the still-warm ashes.

Dumbledore very nearly pissed himself. It was horrifying to watch Voldemort himself get on his knees and BEG her to put someone out of their misery. He was also doing that too. Heck, everyone was watching in stunned horror. Then again, Fred and George were conceived that night… that line of thought was squished instantly. As a homosexual born in the 19th century, Albus was certainly not one to judge.

*****

Harry was in a daze as he packed up his things. He wasn’t going back to Privet Drive. He was free! It was impossible for anything to ruin his happy mood. Draco’s sneers and insults didn’t even faze him. He was just so happy! Finally, it was time to board the train. For once, he wasn’t dreading it with every fiber of his being. He ended up in a compartment with Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Bella, Ari, Fred, and George. It was slightly snug, although things were made easier when it turned out that Bella could, in fact, transform into various types of non-magical snakes, and still communicate in English. The group played Exploding Snap for a while, before practicing disarming. Harry was getting quite good at it. Finally, about half an hour before they were going to pull into Kings Cross, Harry, still deliriously happy, turned to Hermione.

“Hey, how exactly are you going to blend in? You mentioned that cosplay was probably not going to work,” he said.

Hermione’s ears drooped. “It’s most likely that I’ll have to spend most of my summer indoors… hopefully, my instincts aren’t too upset with that…” she admitted. “And that’s not even starting on my… growth,” she added, cupping her breasts. “I told my parents about it, so I’ll have to go clothes shopping sometime. Hopefully we can find a store that doesn't ask too many questions,” she said.

“Did I tell you about the time Dudley got a pig tail, courtesy of Hagrid?” Harry asked. “He had to get it removed in a private hospital,” he explained. The entire compartment roared with laughter.

“Pity. We could’ve done more to him,” Fred mused.

“We could’ve given him a snout to go along with it, and give his mother rabbit ears!” George added.

The compartment was filled with ideas on what they could do about the Dursleys for a couple of minutes. Finally, they pulled in. Harry pinched himself again, just to be sure that no, this wasn’t a dream. When he didn’t wake up in his bed at Hogwarts, he began to sniffle some more. “Mate, are you all right?” Ron asked, worried for his friend.

“Y-yes, Ron… I’m all right,” he told him, grabbing his trunk. He walked out of the compartment, and off the train. Bella transformed into her lamia form, and slithered after him. There, standing on the platform, was his new mother. Harry stood still, barely believing this was real, even after all this time. Bella snuggled him, giving him a sense of security. Ginny rushed up to hug her mother. After her terrifying experience, Harry couldn’t blame her. He had wished that he had had someone to hug like that after his last year… and then, he realized that he now did.

*****

Hermione walked past the group of her friends, heading towards her parents. As she did, she couldn’t help but notice how close Bella was to Harry. It wasn’t the closeness of a friend… it was something deeper. Bella had developed feelings for Harry. The object of her affection hadn't noticed, oblivious as he was, but she did. She could see the way Bella leaned into Harry. Her hips were shaking slightly, like a girl weak in the knees. Hermione felt her chest, and, once again, compared them to the basilisk’s. It was a little insulting that her breasts were smaller than that of a literal reptile, who, by all account, shouldn’t even have breasts! Then again, Ari had breasts. Evidently magical creatures had non-mammalian mammaries for some reason. Hiding her jealousy, she rushed up to her parents.

“Hermione! Why are you in cosplay?” her mother asked. Hermione’s tail twitched.

“I-it’s the potions accident…” she explained. “I-it made me half-cat… the ears and tail are a part of the side effects…” she said, a little worried about having to explain it. “It’s… well… permanent,” she said. Hermione’s father ruffled her head in an affectionate way.

“My dear, you are still purrfect,” he told her, a mischievous smile on his face. “I understand that the wizards don’t want us to let the cat out of the bag, I presume?”

Hermione’s ears twitched in annoyance. “Daaad!” she complained, blushing. “Y-you can’t… I mean…” 

“Cat got your tongue, Hermione?” he asked. Hermione started making random noises, including a meow, which caused her to slap her hands over her mouth in embarrassment. “I see that it would be a cat-astrophe if this got out,” he said. Mrs. Granger just shook her head at her husband’s antics. “So, do tell us about your hair-raising year. I’m very thankful that you’re un-furchanent accident occurred, but I’m purroud that you apparently had just solved a thousand year old riddle! You’ve always been clawver like that! Also, how have your furrends been?”

Hermione just started screaming.

“Don’t be hiss-terical!”

*****

  
  


Ron took a deep breath as he stepped off the train. He had known this was coming, but it still fucking sucked. Behind him, Ari asked softly, “What’s wrong?” Ron shook his head, trying to distract himself from the singing in his magic at how close she was. Her gentle hand trailed over his shoulder as he hesitated, giving Ari the chance to step down next to him. She smiled brightly, and even as Ron felt his spirits lift, the sight of her beady black eyes and mouthparts unnerved him a little.

He suppressed that shudder and instead explained, “Nothing, I’m just…a little nervous, that’s all.”   
  


“About what?” Ari asked.

Ron scanned the crowd quickly, and located the shock of red hair that signaled his doom. He replied, “You're meeting my mother, that’s all.”

Ari tilted her head quizzically; Ron tried to ignore the way his heart cooed at the movement. She mused, “From your tone, you sound like you expect her to be angry.”

  
Ron raised his eyebrow. “Yeah,” he confirmed, “I do.”

“Why?” Ari asked again, “she should be honored that you got such a powerful marriage!” 

There were  _ several  _ problems Ron could see with that statement, but Molly Weasley was in range now, and he barely had the time to sigh, “You’ll see,” before she was on them. At first, the motherly woman was too busy fussing over Harry and Ginny (who was looking much better than she had been a few days before, although still pale and unsteady) to notice the slender, black-haired woman next to Ron. When she eventually got to her youngest son, she immediately wrapped him up in an all-encompassing hug, which Ron returned because he wasn’t an idiot.

“How have you been, Ron?” she asked, apparently  _ still  _ oblivious to the now very jealous-looking acromantula not three feet away from her.

Ron struggled to find the family-appropriate word to describe the sheer level of  _ bullshit  _ he’d been through in the last few days. Eventually, he gave up, and muttered, “Oh, you know, I’m fine.”

Molly didn’t look satisfied with that, but she did at last let him go. As Ron tried to subtly position himself between his mother and his wife, he began, “So, uh, Mom, there’s something you should probably know-”

Alas, it was too late. Molly’s eyes landed on Ari, who was turned slightly in a way that happened to obscure her extra eyes and mouthparts. Molly saw Ari’s hand intertwined with Ron’s, and to her son’s dread, she actually  _ smiled. _

“Ron, you didn’t tell me you had a  _ girlfriend!”  _ she squealed. Ron’s face went as red as his hair, while Harry failed to hold back a snicker at the impending mess.

“Er, about that…” Ron began, only to get cut off as Ari turned fully, and Molly’s smile froze on her face as she saw Ari’s true face.

  
Ari announced, “I’m not his  _ girlfriend,  _ I’m his-”

“Wife,” Ron finished quietly, “by a magic bond.”

Ignoring the way Ari beamed at him, apparently touched by their ability to finish each other’s sentences, he focused on the way his mother’s smile died in an instant, replaced by abrupt confusion.

For a second, Molly was silent, studying her youngest son and his acromantula bride. Then, she simply said, “Oh.” Ron braced himself for the onslaught, which began a moment later, when his mother demanded, “Ronald Bilius Weasley, how on  _ Earth  _ did you manage to get yourself into a  _ magical marriage  _ with a  _ monster-” _

“Mom, she is  _ not  _ a monster,” Ron interrupted, his voice surprisingly firm. Behind him, Ari, who had gone tense at the word, relaxed a little, gratitude pulsing across their connection.

At first, Molly seemed shocked by his interruption, but after another moment, understanding and shame followed, and she said, “Ah. You’re right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. What’s your name?”

“I am Princess Ariana, daughter of Aragog, the last Acromantula Queen of Britain,” Ari said formally, standing straight and proud, maybe in response to being called a monster.

Molly looked taken aback, but to her credit, she took it in stride, quickly saying, “I see. And how, exactly, did you end up magically bonded to my son?”

Ari looked at Ron to answer, because Ron’s life wasn’t risky enough without explaining his dangerous exploits to his mother, apparently. He said quietly, “It’s a long story, Mom. All I’m going to say is…it was better than getting eaten.”

Molly did  _ not  _ look pleased at that, and Ron couldn’t blame her. She was looking at Ari with something that wasn’t  _ quite  _ naked hostility, but was certainly close. Her voice was stormy as she said, “You are  _ far  _ too young to be in a magical marriage like this.  _ Both  _ of you. If I had my way-”

Her voice firm and commanding, Ari interrupted, “With all due respect, it doesn’t  _ matter  _ what you would do if you had your way. I am bonded to your son, and that  _ can’t  _ change. One way or another, we’re stuck with each other…and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I understand being a mother concerned for her child, so I want to assure you that I will  _ never  _ let harm come to Ron. Aside from the fact that the bond would mean I get hurt too, I care for him, deeply. I promise you that.”

Ron stared at Ari in shock and mild terror, as did Ginny, Fred, and George. All of them waited for their mother to blow up and turn Ari into a scorch mark on the pavement or something. But Molly seemed shocked, too; she only stared at the acromantula girl, who looked every inch the princess she was as she returned the glare icily and without a single quaver or moment of hesitation.

At last, Molly’s shoulders set, and her face changed into a look that was angry, but in a way that suggested almost being impressed by her son’s significant other. “You are a rude, arrogant, and disrespectful woman, aren’t you?” she said dryly, in a voice like the calm before the storm.

Ari nodded once. “I will also give you many grandchildren,” she added in the same businesslike yet humorous voice.

Then, to Ron’s shock and terror, Molly Weasley simply nodded once, and said, “Well, as little as I like this situation…I suppose I don’t have much choice but to accept it. That being said…Ron, you’re grounded.”

Ron jumped, not expecting to be addressed until after his mother had verbally (and maybe physically) eviscerated his wife. He complained, “Wait, why?”

“For marrying a spider woman, dear,” Molly replied. Then, without another word, she turned and began to usher her charges away, heading towards the Burrow.

Ron stared at Ari like he had never seen her before. “How in the hell did you do that?” he asked softly, mildly terrified.

Ari smiled blindingly at him, and for the first time Ron didn’t feel a mild shudder at the sight of her jaws. “I grew up with a hundred and twenty six older sisters and a mother who’s a Queen,” she explained, “I’m good at diplomacy.”

_ “That’s  _ diplomacy?” Ron said incredulously, “you just pissed my mom off and…apparently got her approval because of that!”

Ari nodded gravely. “That’s diplomacy,” she confirmed, lacing her arm through Ron’s as they began to walk away from the Hogwarts Express, “remind me to teach it to you sometime.”

“I’m not sure I want to learn,” Ron muttered under his breath. 

If Ari heard, she didn’t show it. Instead, she hummed happily under her breath as they walked. Eventually, she asked, “When do you think Harry and Bella will become mates?”

Ron jumped, surprised by the question. “E-excuse me?” he stammered, trying to make sense of the idea of his best friend with a  _ basilisk. _

Ari just smiled. “Ooh, or maybe Hermione will get to him first!” she cheered, “I bet those cat instincts of hers are driving her  _ crazy  _ without someone to-”

Ron begged, “Please stop.”

  
Ari sighed, “Okay. But only because you asked.”

  
With that, she happily led him onwards, towards home. Ron just shook his head, and followed.


End file.
